


The Road Less Traveled

by GarcysFlereal



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with slow burn HEA, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Garcy - UST, Garcy Conjugal, Garcy gets a HEA, Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Please Don't Kill Me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trip, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, UST, Wyatt Is Rittenhouse, abortion - mentioned, alternate beginning to season 2, alternate season 2, forced abortion - mentioned, garcy, incest - suggested/mentioned, not your stereotypical conjugal fic, rape - suggested/mentioned, rape will not happen as canon to this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 132,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarcysFlereal/pseuds/GarcysFlereal
Summary: Garcia Flynn has been locked up in prison for six weeks. With Rittenhouse set on killing him, an unexpected visitor sets forth a new path that Lucy hadn't written about in her journal.





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to Burgundy_In_Chaucer for being my reader/editor, and for helping me work out certain plot points and characterizations in this story. Thank you, thank you, eggplant!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garcia Flynn has been in prison for six weeks. Now that Rittenhouse has tried to kill him within the prison walls, he receives news that a family member has lined up a visit with him for the weekend. The question is... can he trust that Rittenhouse hasn't gone back and changed history so even a member of his family could be part of their organization?

“I said put your fucking hands on the wall, Flynn.”

This is the third time the prison corrections officer has ordered Garcia Flynn to get up off his bed and place his hands on the cold white brick walls of his prison cell. Garcia runs his hands over the scruff of his face and stands up. It’s already been a long day and all he wants to do is relax in his cell and try to get some sleep for a change.

“What’s this about?” He asks the officer as he makes his way to the wall opposite the cell door.

The correction officer ignores his question and tells him again to turn around and place both hands on the wall. Garcia is irritated, but turns around and does as he is instructed. This isn’t his first time being imprisoned. In 1998 when he was twenty-three years old, he was working his first stint as an American intelligence asset in Kosovo where he helped train the Kosovo Liberation Army. He was held captive for two weeks by the Yugoslavs when he was caught sneaking into Serbia to help families escape the war. That was a different kind of imprisonment than where he is now, but the treatment has been more or less the same.

He places his hands on the wall and lowers his head. He listens as the cell door is unlocked. He counts the footsteps of the corrections officer so he knows exactly where he is in the cell in case he needs to move to protect himself if this isn’t a friendly visit.

The guards in this prison have treated him like shit. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had his head forcefully pinned up against the wall as they’ve handcuffed him when they’ve come to take him to the cafeteria for meals. He’s received several hard blows to his gut hard enough to knock him to his knees. They’ve spat on him and called him a terrorist, and have threatened him with worse violence.

And he takes it.

He takes it because he doesn’t want to do anything to make matters worse.

Garcia knows he’s not getting out.

Agent Christopher, Homeland Security, and the FBI pushed his case quickly through a private military court where it was ruled that he was guilty of the charges against him. He was sentenced to death by lethal injection.

He knows if he fights back that they won’t hesitate to lock him up in solitary confinement. It’s bad enough that Agent Christopher requested he be kept away from other inmates. His cell is located in the basement cell block, which had been abandoned prior to his incarceration. He’s only allowed out of his cell a few times a day and is under constant supervision when among the general prison population.

Three days ago, a guard came and escorted him outside for his hour of fresh air and sunlight, and he was attacked. It was the first time he fought back since being locked up. He held the man in a choke hold and asked him who he was and why he attacked him. Before the other guards came to the man’s rescue, Garcia learned that his attacker was a member of Rittenhouse. That there are orders to kill him before his death sentence will be carried out. That despite his incarceration, Rittenhouse still viewed him as a threat.

After getting stitched up from his own injuries in the fight, Garcia spent two days in solitary confinement for his bad behavior. He had a lot of time alone to think about what the Rittenhouse agent said. But he couldn’t figure it out. Why Rittenhouse would want him killed before his scheduled lethal injection in a couple years. Typically, a stay on Death Row takes a decade or longer, but his case was considered a special circumstance and his being alive could risk the leak of highly confidential information.

That was the official reason given in court, but he suspected that Rittenhouse played a role in rushing his execution. And now they are sending their agents here to the prison to try to kill him. They want him dead and he doesn’t think they’ll stop until they succeed.

“How does a terrorist like yourself not only manage a quick trial, but gets special permission for a fucking family visit?” The corrections officer is disgusted with Garcia. “I’d put a bullet through your brain myself if they’d let me.”

“Family visit?” Garcia asks out loud, more to himself than to the corrections officer.

When he was arrested, he accepted that he would never see anyone he cared about again. Because Lucy Preston and Agent Christopher set him up, he would never get the chance to try to save his wife and daughter again. His older half-brother, Gabriel, lives in Paris, and he never reached out to try to get to know him after he went back to 1969 to save his life. His brother-in-law, Stiv Casey, died in 1937 at the Hindenburg. Agent Christopher told him that Lucy Preston is missing and presumed dead. The only person he can think of who might want to visit him in prison before he’s killed, is his mother.

Maria Thompkins-Flynn is a stubborn woman. If she found out that her youngest son had been arrested and sentenced to death, there would be nothing in this world to keep her from seeing him one last time.

Garcia knows that his mother will have questions for him. He knows that she’ll ask him if he murdered Lorena and Iris. Just as she’ll ask him if he’s a terrorist.

How will he be able to look into his mother’s eyes and tell her that he is guilty of some of the accusations, but for others he is not? He can’t tell her that he’s a time traveling killer. And what if she remembers him from 1969 when he saved Gabriel? What if she’s figured it all out on her own?

Garcia doesn’t flinch when the corrections officer grabs his wrists and pulls them behind his back. His face slams onto the cold brick wall of his cell. He grimaces, but doesn’t give the officer the satisfaction of knowing that it hurt. The officer cuffs his hands together, turns him around and shoves him out of his cell. Garcia doesn’t fight back. If this officer were a Rittenhouse agent sent to kill him, he would have tried to do it by now. Regardless, he doesn’t let his guard down.

Nothing is said as the officer leads him down the long, empty corridors of the Oakland State Maximum Security Prison. Garcia keeps his head low, but his eyes scan his surroundings. If he could escape from here, he’s certain that he’d be able to breach Mason Industries security again and steal one of the time machines. That is assuming that Agent Christopher was able to find where he hid the Mothership before his arrest six weeks ago.

He’d be a fugitive again if he pulled that off, but what else is new? He’s grown accustomed to living on the run. He’s been a fucking fugitive since Rittenhouse framed him for his family’s murder. He has contacts he trusts and funds hidden around the globe. He would be able to keep a low profile and hire new henchmen to help him to destroy Rittenhouse. Maybe he’d be able to find Lucy and recruit her to his team. By the end of it all, she believed him. She understood what was at stake if Rittenhouse weren’t destroyed. And if anyone in this world could track her down it’s him, that is if she’s not dead as Agent Christopher presumes.

He wonders what the news reports are saying about him. Certainly, time travel and Rittenhouse haven’t been mentioned. Or maybe they have? If anything, maybe Rittenhouse has been exposed, but he doesn’t think anyone would leak that time travel is real. There’d be an entirely different kind of arms race if that information got out. Imagine terrorist organizations stealing the technology to build their own time machines. No, there’s no way the media was given that information.

Agent Christopher has bragged about how her team used Lucy’s grandfather to build a case against public figures who are members of Rittenhouse. The arrests of government officials and corporate lawyers can’t possibly be ignored by the press. Has Agent Christopher given Lucy’s name, and that of Rufus and Wyatt, to the press and painted them the heroes of the story? Forgetting, of course, that he too played a part in orchestrating the plan.

He should have been more careful, but he trusted Lucy. He trusted that it was over. That they had succeeded where the future Lucy who gave him her journal hadn’t. They defeated Rittenhouse before they managed to gain control of the Mothership and change history for themselves. So many trips through time never happened that Lucy wrote about in her journal. They were supposed to become quite the team one day, but he hardly considers working with her once to convince her grandfather to collect evidence against Rittenhouse, as them being a well-oiled team.

He would never save Lucy and Rufus in 1692 when puritans wanted to hang them as witches. They would never live together in some secret bunker near the coast. He would never befriend someone named Jiya. Rufus would never forgive him for having Al Capone try to kill him. And Wyatt would never break her heart. They were supposed to chase Rittenhouse through time and it never happened because they stopped Rittenhouse in their tracks here in 2017.

There’d be no trip back to 1831 to stop Rittenhouse from making Andrew Jackson’s Trail of Tears worse. No trip back to the Hungnam evacuation in North Korea in 1950. Wyatt would never get to fawn over some NASCAR driver named Ryan Millerson. He’d never get to meet Nikola Tesla, and they would never board the Titanic in 1912.

The Titanic… just thinking about Lucy’s journal entry about the Titanic fucked with his heart and mind. She wrote that was the night that he first kissed her as they sat wrapped in blankets in one of the eighteen lifeboats used to save passengers that cold April morning in 1912. That was the event that made them face the truth of how they felt for each other. She wrote about how after surviving the Titanic, they were inseparable.

That they were in love.

He read through the entire journal that night in São Paulo. He read through it so many times after that night. He has memorized many of Lucy’s entries word-for-word. He could recite them aloud if asked.

After he first read it, he almost threw it in the garbage it made him so angry. He was two weeks out from losing his wife and daughter to murder. He had been contemplating suicide, thinking that was the only way he’d be able to be with them again: through his death. He never wanted or expected to be able to fall in love again.

And there it was in Lucy’s journal.

He kissed her and she kissed him back. Once they returned from 1912, they slept together in his bed. They didn’t make love until a couple weeks later when they were certain a relationship was what they wanted. That it wasn’t just a reaction to having survived one of the most horrific events of the twentieth century.

Garcia had felt so much anger in his heart when he first read her journal.

Anger at his future self for falling in love again, for betraying Lorena. But the more time he spent with the journal, the more he felt he knew Lucy. The more he came to care for her. Once they started meeting in time, he got to see her in action and was even more impressed by her. She proved time and again that maybe, just maybe, he could love her. He hated that she found a way into his heart just as much as he loved the way she challenged him. The way they bantered and argued with each other, always with respect. The way she reminded him how it felt to laugh and smile again. He’d never admit it aloud, but his present self was falling for her.

Even now, even after she betrayed him… he is in love with Lucy Preston.

Now that she is presumed dead, it hurts knowing what they could have had together in another timeline. Six weeks ago, when he met her and returned her journal, he had hoped that they’d be able to maintain some kind of friendship. He wasn’t expecting her to fall in love with him. It was obvious that she was falling in love with Wyatt, but he wanted her friendship. He had been without friends for nearly three years. Lucy seemed like the kind of person he would enjoy meeting up with for a drink once or twice a week where they could discuss literature or history. She interested him intellectually and that’s what attracted him to her the most.

She was strong, independent and didn’t take shit from him – or anyone else for that matter. She wasn’t afraid to get up in his face and tell him that he was wrong and that there were better ways to get things done. She was smart, sexy, and every goddamn thing he likes and wants in a woman. He would go to the end of the world and back, do anything for her. If he were handed a second chance to prove himself to her, to work with her, he’d take it in a heartbeat.

But there’s no chance of that happening now that she’s dead and he’s rotting on Death Row.

He can only hope that the information Lucy’s grandfather collected has been enough to stop Rittenhouse for good. Because if it didn’t, he has no way of fighting them behind these prison walls. The only man who could possibly help him is Karl. But the thing with Karl is that he is motivated by money, not friendship or loyalty. And Garcia knows that without outside assistance, breaking out of this maximum security prison is damn near impossible.

The corrections officer leads Garcia into a bright white room with a single steel table pressed against the wall, and bolted to the concrete floor. Two other corrections officers stand on either side of it. The door closes behind him and he is instructed to strip off all his clothes and piss into a cup for a drug and alcohol test. All which must be done before he’s allowed to be reunited with his family.

Garcia knows better than to be a smartass about this. One fuck up and he risks not seeing his mother at all. And considering he doesn’t even qualify for family visits; he’s not going to press his luck. This could be the last visit he has with anyone outside these walls until they carry out his death sentence.

He does as he’s told.

After an invasive search of his body, the three officers leave him alone in the room. He gets dressed back into his orange prison jumpsuit and waits for the results of the drug and alcohol test to come back. When it comes back clean, he’ll be escorted to – as one of the officers told him – the “private family visiting area.” This indicates to him that his mother might have scheduled a couple day’s stay with him at a prison housing unit. He was expecting to visit with her for an hour with a phone, behind a glass partition. He wonders what kind of strings his mother pulled to get a private visit.

What if…?

No.

What if Rittenhouse went back and changed his mother’s history so that she is now Rittenhouse? What if securing this private visitation was because of them? What if they sent her here to kill him? If that’s the case, he knows he won’t be able to fight her. He wouldn’t be able to hurt or kill his own mother, not even in self-defense. He loves her too much.

The door to the room opens and a different corrections officer stands in its frame. Garcia has met him before. HIs name is Doug and he’s one of the few in this place that treats him with respect. Doug has spent almost his entire career at this prison, and expects to retire within the next couple years. He’s almost as tall as Garcia and has a full head of grey hair.

”You comin’ or not?” Doug asks. “You got just over two days outside these walls. Don’t think you want to waste ‘em staring at me.”

Garcia holds his breath, unable to breathe. His heart is pounding in his chest, blood rings in his ears. He feels light-headed and his soul aches with unimaginable pain.

He is going to see his mother.

He is going to see his mother for the first time since the summer before Rittenhouse murdered his family. Before he got involved with time travel. Before he was named a terrorist and a traitor to this country. He feels sick to his stomach. He also feels that nervous excitement he had as a boy the night before the first day of school. He’s light-headed and takes a deep breath.

He holds his arms out to the officer expecting to be handcuffed again.

“No need for cuffs, Flynn.” Doug shoots him a sympathetic smile. “Follow me and I’ll get you to your housing unit.”

The five minutes it takes to walk down the empty corridor seems to take a lifetime. Garcia and Doug don’t exchange any other pleasantries between them. Garcia thinks about what he is going to say to his mother. He wonders what she will say to him. Would her eyes reflect heartache and shame? Would she be angry with him? Would she cry? She loved Lorena and Iris as much as he did. Would she think him capable of murder? Would she yell at him or slap him across the face believing he murdered his girls?

Would she believe him if he told her he had been set up?

He needs to apologize to her for what his actions have put her through. These past few years couldn’t have been easy on her. The not knowing where he was or what really happened. Not being able to hear his side of the story and only relying on the news media for answers. She must know that Lorena’s family refused to believe he killed his girls. They made sure to refer to Lorena as “wife” on hers and Iris’s gravestone. He can’t imagine that his mother never visited the site after their deaths. She loved them both so much.

Garcia wonders if his older half-brother, Gabriel, would be with her? He’s never met him before and has no idea what their relationship was like after he saved his life in 1969.

All he knows for certain is that there is no way in Hell that he’s going to even whisper the name Rittenhouse to them. He doesn’t want to risk his mother looking into the organization just as he had. He doesn’t want her finding something that flags her for execution. As much as he hopes the arrests made destroyed Rittenhouse, he’s also considered the fact that Rittenhouse is a century’s old worldwide organization. There could be more members out there taking the reins. Obviously, he’s right, otherwise they wouldn’t have sent an assassin to try to kill him.

The sunlight catches him off-guard and he raises his hands up to shield his eyes from the blinding evening sun. There’s a cool, gentle breeze which blows a strand of hair across his forehead. He squints his eyes as he runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. He hasn’t been outside since the last Rittenhouse agent tried to kill him a few days ago.

Doug drives him around the exterior of the prison complex toward the private family visitation housing units. He knows that this might be the last time he’ll have a taste of freedom. Once this visit is over, he’ll be back in his prison cell until the day of his execution. Whether that execution is by the state or at the hands of a Rittenhouse agent, remains to be seen.

The visitation area is composed of three small one-story duplexes. Each unit is surrounded by a chain-link fence with a razor wire top. The units are situated not far from a prison watchtower. Outside each unit is a grill and a couple pieces of patio furniture. There are no bars on the windows and behind the unit is a vast pasture where trees and flowers are blooming.

Blood drains from Garcia’s face as his heart pounds in his chest. He can’t remember the protocol. Would his mother already be here, or is he brought here first?

“She said that she’d be bringing you some clothes so you don’t have to wear that godawful orange jumpsuit all weekend.” Doug tells him as he gets out of the car.

Garcia follows him without saying a word. As much as he wants to see his mother, he fears what he might see in her eyes when she looks at him.

“We also filled up the fridge with food that she requested. You’ll be able to make your own meals.” Doug watches Garcia as he scans the area. “Feel free to use the grill outside if you want to barbeque.”

Garcia follows Doug as he unlocks the gate of the fence and leads him inside the visitation unit. Immediately to his right is a small kitchen complete with a stove top, oven, microwave, sink, and refrigerator. Straight ahead of him is the living room. There’s a faux leather couch and matching recliner situated in front of a widescreen television and window. There are several different magazines laid out on the coffee table. The bedroom is to his left and includes an attached bathroom. Garcia looks at the door to the bathroom and points at it.

“There’s a door.” Garcia says with a chuckle.

Doug nods his head, “All inmates like the door to the bathroom.”

“It’ll be nice to shower without an audience.”

“Or with an audience, if you know what I mean.” Doug winks.

Garcia raises his brow. No, he has no idea what he means. Why would Doug say that about his mother?

Outside, another car pulls up to the unit and comes to a stop. Garcia hears the car doors slam shut. There’s talking but he’s too far away to hear what’s being said. He closes his eyes, trying to prepare himself for what comes next. This might be worse than his prison sentence; coming face-to-face with his mother. He’s struck by deep shame. His face flushes red and he doesn’t know what to do with his arms.

First, he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Then he runs his hand through his hair and nervously licks his bottom lip. He feels like he’s ten years old again and in trouble for using a magnifying glass to accidentally set the living room carpet on fire at his grandmother’s home.

The silhouette of a woman approaches the front door of the unit. She’s carrying her own overnight bags. He sees that she’s wearing a bulky sweatshirt, and sweatpants. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Not exactly his mother’s style, but women are told not to dress up for visitations. In fact, women can be denied entry to visitation areas in the prison for wearing inappropriate clothes.

“Ma’am.” Doug says as he steps aside to allow her entry into the unit.

“Please don’t call me ma’am.” She tells him. “It’s Lucy.”

She turns her back to Doug and the officer who escorted her here.

She looks at Garcia and gives him a warm smile. She has no idea how he’s going to react to seeing her. She’s hopeful yet… scared. She knows that if he wants to be, he can be the most dangerous man in the world.

The expression on his face has gone from nervous anxiety to burning anger. Lucy Preston is to blame for his being here. Lucy Preston set him up. Lucy Preston is the reason why he never saved Lorena and Iris. He’s quick to wipe the anger off his face and keeps himself from marching right up to her to demand answers of her.

There’s a sparkle in her eyes that indicates she’s happy to see him, but also begs of him to go along with whatever lie she’s told to get her here without question. She bites her lower lip and looks back at the officers to make sure it’s all right for her to approach Garcia. Doug nods his head.

Before Garcia can process what is happening, Lucy’s arms are wrapped around his neck. She places a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ve missed you so much.” She tells him in a whispered breath.

What. the. fuck is Lucy Preston doing here?

She is supposed to be dead. That’s what Agent Christopher had told him. He has so many questions for her but can’t yet ask them, not with Doug and the other officer standing right there. His heart is pounding so hard that he’s sure Lucy can hear it. He feels elated, but also angry.

He’s conflicted.

On one hand, it is good to see her again. He thought she was dead and he’d never have a chance to apologize to her for so many things, to make things right between them, to be her friend – or the very least a friendly acquaintance. But on the other hand, he blames her for her role in his arrest. He blames her for not being able to go back and save his girls.

If she’s here to gather intel from him about Rittenhouse there’s no way that he’s going to help her, not unless she gets him out of this shit hole first. If Rittenhouse is still a threat, that’s on her goddamn shoulders, not his. She proved to him exactly what she thought of him. She claimed that she knew he wasn’t a monster, but six weeks ago she was standing in front of him, acting as if she was surprised when law enforcement officers placed him under arrest. She treated him like shit in the end, and she deserves no better from him.

Her hand is touching his arm, and she’s smiling up at him, and God help him he loves her. He can’t let his feelings for her get in the way. That’s how you get screwed over in the first place. He needs to separate his heart from his mind.

He looks down at Lucy, daggers in his eyes. He thinks that he sees fear in her eyes, she inhales sharply and rubs her hand on his arm, perhaps in an effort to calm him. He watches her. Maybe it’s in the way she looked up at him, maybe it was in the way she took a breath, or the way she’s touching his arm, but there’s something… different.

Something has changed in her.

Just like him, she must have been through a lot these past six weeks, and that whatever happened can’t be good. He sets aside the anger that was manifesting toward her and does what he can to soothe her fear. To assure her that he’s not going to expose her lie and get her in trouble with the officers. If he did that then he would never know the reason for her visit.

He kisses the top of her head and caresses the back of her neck with his fingertips.

“Moja draga…” He takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles, holding her hand over his heart. He feels anger burning through his veins.

All this time, Agent Christopher must have known that Lucy was alive and well. He had told Agent Christopher during her first interrogation that he would only talk to Lucy, and she had lied straight-faced to him that she was presumed dead. Any hope that he had left died with Lucy. He had been brought back to his cell and stared at himself long and hard in the mirror.

Who was he without Lucy? Who was he without her journal? The past couple of years her journal defined him. Even though Lucy played a role in his arrest, she understood him, or at least he thought she understood him. She was the only person in the world that believed in him. She believed in him when even he had given up on himself.

He loves her. God damn him, he does.

But in the end, she betrayed him, Agent Christopher lied to him about her death, and Lucy must have instructed her to do it. He hopes she feels guilty, seeing him standing here in this damn orange jumpsuit. He hopes it haunts her that he’s been sentenced to death by lethal injection. He hopes that she has trouble sleeping at night.

Lucy rests her head against his chest and lets out a sigh.

Garcia tries to reel back in his anger, but Lucy is accepting his silent assurances that he’s not going to do anything to jeopardize her visit. Despite her feigning love for him, he knows that she’s here to use him. She’s either here to gather intel on Rittenhouse for Agent Christopher, or…

He feels a ring on her finger as he caresses her knuckles.

The anger is rising in him again… If it weren’t for Lucy, he would have Lorena and Iris back. He’d not be sentenced to death. He trusted Lucy with his family. He trusted her with his child. And now she’s here, alone… and for what? A _conjugal_ visit?

Beneath his calm exterior, he is seething.

He wants to push her away and yell at her for what she’s done. Force her up against that wall, frighten her as he’s never done before, and ask her why the fuck she’s here. He wants to hurt her just as much as she’s hurt him.

Doug and the other officer watch them to make sure that it is safe to leave them alone. Fortunately for Garcia, neither officer has any clue about the anger raging inside him. Doug looks like he’s waiting for their reunion to end so he can tell them something before he leaves.

“Garcia…” Lucy says his name as a whisper as she gently caresses the stubble on his face.

 _Fuck her_ for using his first name.

The sound of his name on her lips is too… intimate, too personal. It both warms his goddamn heart and chills him to the bone. That’s one wall that he does not want Lucy to tear down between them, not after her betrayal. He stares down into her brown eyes as a warning to not push this façade too far. He wants her to understand that he does not want her calling him by his first name.

Lucy swallows hard and averts her eyes, unable to hold his gaze. She knows now that he is not happy to see her. There’s a part of her that fears what will happen once the officers leave, but there’s the other part of her that trusts Garcia absolutely will not hurt her. He has never been able to hurt her.

But… could he?

Lucy sees anger in his eyes. Whatever happens, she knows it’s not going to be pleasant.

Doug clears his throat so he can say his piece.

“The times we need you to step outside each day for roll-call are posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen. If you’re late to roll-call the prison reserves the right to stop this visitation and escort your wife off the premises.” Doug pauses and looks from Garcia to Lucy. “Complimentary condoms and lubricant are in the drawer of the nightstand. You are expected to tidy the place up before the end of your stay. You are not under audio or video surveillance as that would be a violation of your wife’s privacy. All phones are hooked up to prison security. If they are disconnected or picked up a security officer will arrive and the visitation ends.” Doug looks at Lucy. “We want you to feel one-hundred percent safe here during your stay, ma’am.”

Lucy smiles at the officer and stops herself from letting out a disgruntled huff at the word _ma’am_. She steps away from Garcia and approaches Doug, a sweet smile on her face.

“Now, why wouldn’t I feel safe with my own husband?” She asks. “I am the one who set up this visitation as a surprise for him in the first place. If I thought he was a threat to me, do you really think that I’d be here?” She places her hand on Doug’s arm and laughs sweet as cherry pie.

Just like that, Doug is under her spell. She’s charming, sweet, and beautiful. No man stands a chance against her when she turns on that kind of charm. Even Garcia smiles, he can’t help himself. There’s the Lucy Preston that he admired, the one who was always able to get one up on him. The Lucy he got to know from the journal. The Lucy Preston he fell in love with. He’s humored that she has bypassed the scrutiny of a maximum security prison. Even when he’s angry with her, she never fails to impress him.

Doug looks at Garcia and nods.

“She scheduled two full days with you. Tomorrow and Sunday. We’ll pick her up first thing Monday morning after roll-call.” He clears his throat. “Don’t think about getting’ smart on us. The watchtower is right out here, and you’ll be expected to show your face each morning and night so we know you’re still here.”

“I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.” The other officer chimes in, disgusted. “How a guy like that wound up with a gal like this, I’ll never understand.”

Doug gives the other officer a shut-your-mouth look.

“I’m just a lucky guy.” Garcia responds, flashing the other officer a smile.

He just wants the officers to leave so he can find out why Lucy is here. How is she not dead? He’s almost positive that it has something to do with Rittenhouse. Lucy wrote about how she and Agent Christopher visited him in prison, needing his help to track Rittenhouse in the past. But she never wrote about them having a conjugal visit. Is this a result of history changing or was this visit something that Lucy chose not to write about in her journal?

Lucy closes the door behind the two officers and turns the lock. The smiles disappear from both their faces now that they are alone.

Her hand rests on the door, and she hesitates to turn around to face Garcia. Her back is to him just long enough for tension to build. She takes a short breath and exhales, starting to turn just as Garcia grabs her and whips her around to face him. He pulls her close to him. He’s in her face, his grip tight enough on her arm that it will leave bruises. He has no intention of letting her go.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Lucy?” He growls.

Lucy’s eyes are wide and for the first time in a long time, she’s afraid of him.

It’s been six weeks since his arrest and since then he’s been tried in a military court and sentenced to death. She didn’t expect a warm welcome, and she certainly did not expect him to get physical with her. She looks into his eyes. They are angry, dilated. For a moment, Lucy considers fighting him to run out the front door and have the officers escort her to safety. But she’s here for a reason.

“We have a lot to talk about, Flynn.”

“You got me thrown in here… a fucking death sentence!” He growls at her as he pushes her back up against the wall, pinning her to it. “What were you thinking, Lucy?!” His jaw protrudes as he looks down on her, his eyes filled with hurt and anger. “You set me up and you have the gall to-”

“You’re hurting me!” She yells at him, refusing to allow his strength and size intimidate her. She struggles against him to free her arm. He holds onto her tighter. She grunts trying to free herself and then screams at him, “I SAID LET GO!”

“Why are you here, Lucy?” He lowers his voice.

He towers over her. His eyes are on fire and he’s Hell bent on getting every answer he needs from her, no matter what he has to do to get them.

“Are you checking up on me?” He raises his other hand and reaches for her throat. Maybe a touch more intimidation – a threat of violence – will make her talk. But Lucy hits his hand hard.

“No! Don’t!” She begs, her voice wavering.

Under normal circumstances, he would listen to her. But he is angry so he defies all common sense and does it anyway. He presses his hand against her collarbone and slides his fingers up until they curl around her neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds his hand against her skin to make her think he could hurt her if he wanted to.

He’s angry, yes, but he doesn’t want to hurt her.

She whimpers, giving into him.

Her back slides down the wall as her legs give out on her.

The sound of her cry sends a jolt straight through his heart. He immediately releases her, feeling guilty for scaring her in the first place. He knows he shouldn’t have done that.

He steps back and looks at her.

She’s touching her neck and looking at the floor, unable or too afraid to meet his gaze. He shakes his head to himself and approaches her again. No. He can’t give her an inch if he wants to keep the upper hand here. He goes to her again and presses his hand firm, but more gently against her shoulder to keep her pinned against the wall.

He does not touch her neck.

Lucy’s eyes are shimmering with tears that she’s refusing to let fall. She holds as strong as she can against his intimidations. She knows that he would never hurt her. Intimidation, yes, but not actual, physical pain. She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Rittenhouse… is that why you’re here?” He asks, attempting to remain calm.

She lowers her eyes and stops fighting against him. “Yes.” She looks up at him. “Of course, I’m here because of Rittenhouse. What other reason would I have?”

It is his turn to lower his eyes. He’d be lying if he said he never thought of a day when Lucy might want to visit him because she cared for him in some way. He wants to tell her how thankful he is that she’s ok, that she’s not dead as Agent Christopher believes, but if he did then he would be revealing too much of how he feels for her. He releases his hold on her shoulder and steps away from her.

He is no longer a threat.

“Rittenhouse has the Mothership.” She hesitates. “The Lifeboat… it was…” She shakes her head and looks at him, not caring that her eyes are filled with tears.

“What happened, Lucy?” His voice is soft now. He recognizes her heartache.

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Rittenhouse blew up Mason Industries. The explosion destroyed the Lifeboat and…” She swallows hard and shuts her eyes. “… Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya, along with twenty other Mason Industries employees are presumed dead.” She wipes a tear from her cheek and apologizes for crying. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He wets his bottom lip and steps toward her. “They were your friends.”

Garcia steps toward her with the intention of placing a caring hand on her shoulder. She flinches at his touch and she steps away from him. He retracts the gesture, guilt again flooding through him, and watches her walk into the living room.

“Agent Christopher told me you were presumed dead too. That Rittenhouse got to you-”

“I… I was with my mother when it happened. The explosion.”

“Your mother, who is Rittenhouse.” He says so she knows that he’s aware of this fact.

Lucy spins around, her eyes wide. “How did you know that? The journal?” She asks.

“No. Agent Christopher mentioned your mother was Rittenhouse in one of her many interrogations.” He pauses. “It wasn’t in your journal.”

“Agent Christopher is alive?” Lucy is genuinely surprised. She had been told that there were no survivors except for Connor Mason.

“She’s been in here once a week to interrogate me.”

“How…? I thought…”

Lucy is confused. No. She is hurt.

Her mother is still lying to her, expecting her to willingly accept whatever Rittenhouse tells her, all in the hope that she adopts their twisted ideology and joins the organization.

“I could ask the same thing about you, Lucy. I was told you were dead, but here you are. You were with your mother when they killed Wyatt and Rufus. How do I know that you’re not one of them now?” He looks for her reaction. “Is that why you’re here? To kill me?”

“No. I…” Lucy looks away from him. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she feels sick. “I came here to see if you’re still interested in helping me fight Rittenhouse. I want to finish what we started. I want to take down Rittenhouse for good.”

“You do know that I’m incarcerated, don’t you?”

“Of course. I-”

“You stopped me from taking down Rittenhouse over and over again, Lucy.”

“Not anymore. I’ll do whatever it takes now.” She’s practically begging him now.

“Really?” He sneers at her. “What? You’re going to kill your own mother? Your hero who secretly groomed you, programmed you since you were a child to become one of them? And you blindly obeyed your whole life, begging for her approval like a lap dog.” He laughs and shakes his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but it just doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“They murdered your wife and daughter. You want to avenge their deaths? You can have a chance to save them or you can keep being a smug, stubborn ass and rot knowing that their deaths were in vain.”

Garcia’s heart is pounding in his chest and it takes everything for him not to lash out at her for bringing up his family. He wants desperately to get out of prison, to join Lucy in the fight against Rittenhouse. To save his family.

 She’s not lying when she calls him a stubborn ass.

“I’ve been… playing along with them.” Lucy continues when he says nothing. “Pretending that I want to join them, to be Rittenhouse. That’s how I was able to get in here to see you.”

“As my wife?” He’s not amused.

“I couldn’t risk walking in here and being turned away because I was just a friend or your girlfriend. I used Rittenhouse resources to forge a marriage certificate.” She rolls her eyes at this. “In the eyes of the law, well… on paper, we are… man and wife.” She holds up her hand so he can see that she’s wearing a wedding ring.

“I can help you fight them if you can get me out of here.” He says, matter-of-fact, although he can’t deny that his heart flutters at the thought that they are married.

“I don’t…” She shakes her head and sits down on the couch. She leans forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t know how to get you out of here, and I don’t know how I can fight them on my own.” She looks up at him. “One-hundred and fifty people were arrested worldwide, most right here in the United States. That number is not a loss for them. It doesn’t stop them. They are rebuilding leadership and I fear that they will become even more powerful.”

“Rittenhouse has been around for almost two-hundred and forty years. It’ll take a lot more than a few arrests to take them down.” He pauses. “That’s why I had to steal the Mothership. The only way they can be stopped is in the past. That’s what you said in your journal.”

“Even if I was able to steal the Mothership from them, I can’t pilot it. I have no way to go back. No way to fight them. My mother won’t even let me go with them on trips back in time. I have no idea what history has been changed and that terrifies me.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “It terrifies me that history has changed around us, affected us, and we don’t even know it.”

Garcia nods his head.

“Are you going to go back to them? After this weekend?” He asks.

“I don’t see any way out of it. My mother dropped me off. She thinks I’m here to use you for information.” She stands up and goes to him. “I need you, Flynn. You’re the only one left besides me who wants to destroy them.”

He looks down at her as she places both of her hands on his arms. She’s desperate for his help, yet… there’s still something that doesn’t feel right.

“Well, Lucy… thanks to you and Agent Christopher, there’s not much I can do to help you from in here.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, and turns and heads toward the bedroom. He picks up both of Lucy’s overnight bags and carries them into the room with him. He clears his throat to change the subject. “I was told you were bringing me a change of clothes?”

Lucy’s heart races and she runs into the bedroom after him.

“Yes, I uh…” She grabs one of the overnight bags from him before he can open it and rummage through her belongings. “They’re in the other bag.”

He gives her a look, raising his brow. He chuckles and asks, “Afraid I was going to see your bra and panties?”

He opens the other bag and retrieves clean white socks and black boxer shorts. He looks up at her and winks. Lucy rolls her eyes at him, just slightly nervous. She watches as he pulls out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt which she picked out for him. She had only ever seen him dressed in clothing to fit the era he traveled back to, and she’d be lying if she said she was never curious to see what he looked like in a good pair of Levi’s and a snug black t-shirt.

“I had to guess your size so, I hope everything fits all right.” She tells him.

“I’m more of a boxer briefs kind of guy, but this’ll do.”

Lucy feels her cheeks turn red and she adjusts her grip on her overnight bag.

Garcia watches her carefully, curious to know what is in the bag she holds so tightly against her chest. He sets the clean clothes down on the foot of the queen size bed, on top of its navy-blue comforter. And without a word and with all the confidence in the world, he locks eyes with her as he unzips his prison jumpsuit. He strips it off his body and removes his prison issue white undershirt and boxer shorts.

He stands in front of her naked, wanting her to see the full extent of what he’s been through in just six weeks.

Lucy looks at him and it pains her heart to see that there are bruises covering his body. She swallows hard, returning her gaze to his hazel-green eyes. Behind those eyes she sees a man in pain. She’s not the reason why he’s here, but she knows that he still blames her. She knows that he wants her to see what he’s been through since he was arrested.

She feels guilty.

She knows that she had nothing to do with his arrest. She knows that Agent Christopher followed her to get to him, but she still feels guilty for it and everything he’s endured while behind these prison walls.

He deserved better.

In the end, he did the right thing. He deserved a chance to save his family. He doesn’t deserve imprisonment. Nor does he deserve the kind of treatment that leaves his body riddled with bruises.

He deserved a full pardon for his actions, not a death sentence.

Garcia lowers his eyes, seeing her guilt. He had wanted to make a smartass remark to her about seeing him naked. But she’s standing in front of him, her eyes scanning his badly bruised body, and she looks like she could cry.

He feels bad and seeing her so upset breaks his heart.

While Agent Christopher didn’t say that Lucy had nothing to do with his arrest, he thought long and hard about how she had been with him before it happened. He knew, without doubt, that Lucy Preston believed in him, knew that he was a good man. She wanted him to save his girls, for him to be a father again.

There was no way she would take part in setting him up for arrest and he should just stop trying to convince himself that she was.

It’s just that she was the easiest person for him to blame since she’s the one he knew best. He didn’t care about Agent Christopher. He didn’t give a damn about Wyatt or Rufus. He cared about Lucy and he figure that maybe if he told himself she set him up, he could convince himself that he didn’t care for her, that he didn’t love her. He takes a breath and slowly exhales, licks his lips, and then excuses himself from the room.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He gestures to the bathroom behind him. “I’m going to close the door… I don’t get much privacy… here.”

Lucy can’t find words to say so she nods her head, still clutching her overnight bag against her chest. She watches as he disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The shower runs and she bends over and exhales in relief. She had no idea how this would go. Seeing Garcia Flynn for the first time since his arrest. She expected anger. She expected him to raise his voice with her. And she expected the threat of violence against her, but she wasn’t expecting him to calm down so soon. Nor was she expecting him to stand naked before her, making sure she could see the abuse he’s endured.

The sight of him covered with deep purple bruises breaks her heart. What he must have been through… she shakes her head. This visit wasn’t completely guaranteed. Lucy requested it, but it depended on his behavior. If Garcia had initiated any fight, they would have denied him this visit. That means that each one of those bruises he obtained without fighting back. If he wanted to hurt her by showing her his bruises, he succeeded.

Tears sting her eyes and she quickly wipes them away, trying to force any emotional reaction to a place where it cannot be felt. It’s easier to cope if she can act like this – all of this – doesn’t hurt.

She sits down on the edge of the bed. Her hands shake as she opens her overnight bag. She glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s going on seven o’clock. She rummages through her bag and removes her pajamas. She doesn’t have much options for clothing at Rittenhouse headquarters so she brought a light grey camisole and matching pants. She removes her light-weight burgundy robe, her toiletries bag, and some books that she brought in case Garcia wanted to spend the time reading instead of talking to her.

Lucy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

She reaches into the bag for one more item.

A gun.

In order to prove her loyalty to Rittenhouse, her mother insisted that she kill Garcia Flynn.

Lucy doesn’t see any way out of this. If she doesn’t obey this order, Rittenhouse will kill her. If she doesn’t obey this order then she won’t be able to try to stop them. If she doesn’t obey this order… Rittenhouse wins.

She stares at the bathroom door and listens to the running water. She looks down at the weapon in her hand. Her mother gave her this gun. Her mother told her she needed to kill Garcia Flynn before the end of this weekend. She was told that Rittenhouse had a man inside the prison who would escort her off the premises after she completed her mission.

Her mother kissed her on the cheek before handing her this gun, and showing her how to use it. She told her that killing Garcia Flynn is the only way that she could prove her loyalty to her and to Rittenhouse.

That there was no other way.

Lucy blinks, forcing herself to stand up and trying to forget about everything her mother had been to her before she found out she was Rittenhouse. Her mother had been her friend. Someone she could call and tell her how she was stuck in traffic for two hours on her way home from class. She confided in her about her love life, or lack thereof. She wanted to make her mother proud. She turned down a job at a smaller university in order to teach at the history department built by and named after her mother here in California. They even wrote a couple books together.

But the woman she loved is a monster.

Her mother believes whole-heartedly that she, her daughter is capable of murder.

Lucy struggles with this revelation the most.

She removes her oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants and changes into her pajamas, wrapping herself in her burgundy robe to keep warm. She pulls the elastic band from her hair and lets it fall around her shoulders.

She picks up the gun and leaves the bedroom to find a suitable place to hide it until she can work up the nerve to… do as her mother instructed.

Lucy has become numb and being here, alone with Garcia has tapped in on emotions she learned to bury. Over the past six weeks at Rittenhouse, she’s learned that it’s best to shove all emotion aside and deal with whatever came at her with indifference. The first week with Rittenhouse broke her spirit and the weeks following were spent trying to convince her that Rittenhouse was doing good, that they had great plans for the future. Her mother’s touch was cold and heartless. Her loving words, empty.

When Garcia placed his hand around her neck, it didn’t hurt, but she allowed herself to feel afraid anyway. She hasn’t felt anything for too long. Garcia’s touch wasn’t heartless. It was filled with fire, passion, and anger. His words came from his heart. What he said wasn’t meant to manipulate or indoctrinate her. When he saw her fear, he backed off. He cared for her in a way that even her mother doesn’t.

This shook her.

Someone in this world still cares for her.

Garcia Flynn.

And being here with him has allowed her the freedom to feel again. She doesn’t know what it is about him, but he inspires confidence in herself. He allows her to feel. And it doesn’t matter what it is that she feels, he just wants her to – inspires her to – be honest with herself. He wants her to be Lucy Preston. Not the Lucy Preston that her mother or Rittenhouse wants her to be, or who Wyatt wanted her to be, or Rufus, or Agent Christopher, or even… or even Amy.

He treats her differently than the others.

He’s not afraid to grab her by the neck if she gets in his way and throw her down to complete a mission. He’s not afraid to raise his voice with her, and she discovered that she isn’t afraid to do the same. And that was exhilarating.

The first time she faced him after the Hindenburg was in 1865, just the second trip back in time. She called him a son-of-a-bitch to his face and yelled at him because Amy disappeared. He told her that he was here to right some wrongs, that he wasn’t trying to destroy America, but he was trying to save it.  When he told her outright that he wasn’t threatening her, she believed him. He wasn’t trying to kill her or her team and it was in that moment that she knew he would never hurt her.

That night, she tried to stop him. He grabbed her by the neck and threw her down onto a couch in the balcony where he had assassinated President Lincoln. His grip on her neck didn’t hurt, the action only scared her. She grabbed a gun from her purse and aimed it at him, but he looked at her and she couldn’t pull the trigger.

Lucy squeezes her eyes shut and stifles back a cry.

She opens her eyes and looks at the gun in her hand.

If he catches her with it there’s no doubt that he’ll fight for his life, and she’ll fight back. She’ll push him as far as she can. She wants him to hurt her so she knows she’s alive. That she can still feel something, anything.

But could he kill her in self-defense?

She shakes that thought from her head as she kneels down and opens the cabinet doors underneath the kitchen sink. She removes the liquid dish soap and places it on the counter, next to the sink. Then she places the gun in the far corner of the cabinet. It’s not the best hiding place, but if the dish soap is out on the kitchen counter then maybe he won’t find it.

She quietly closes the cabinet doors and stands up. Her eyes fall on the cutlery block. There are plenty of knives that he could use to fight her. She knows that if she is going to do this that she has to kill him with her first shot otherwise she will fail. He’s an experienced fighter and there’s no way that she, a historian, will be able to hold her own against him.

If she succeeds then she would truly be alone.

She makes her way back to the bedroom and picks up the books that she brought, moving them out to the living room and placing them on the coffee table: _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , _A Farewell to Arms_ , _The Book Thief_ , _1984_ and _All the President’s Men_. She has no idea what he likes to read so she brought some of her personal favorites. She’s fidgety and doesn’t want to sit down and pretend that she was reading this whole time.

The shower isn’t running anymore and soon he’ll join her.

She goes back into the kitchen. She can make them something to eat. She can only imagine the shit for food that Garcia has been fed while incarcerated. She gets out two plates and starts to make sandwiches: whole wheat bread, deli-sliced oven-roasted turkey breast, mayonnaise, mustard, hamburger pickles, spinach, cheddar cheese, spicy barbeque sauce and… she looks around to see what else she can put in their sandwiches. She picks up a jar of crunchy peanut butter and dips the butter knife into it.

“You changed.”

Garcia’s voice stops her from spreading the peanut butter on the sandwiches. She quickly turns around with the peanut buttered knife in hand and looks at him. His hair is still wet from his shower. She didn’t bring him a razor so he wasn’t able to shave. Though he’s cleaned up he looks handsomely disheveled. He’s barefoot and in the black t-shirt and jeans she picked out for him. She eyes him from head to toe without a word.

He looks… good.

Garcia exhales and tries not to laugh as he watches Lucy checking him out. Lorena once told him that if he was fresh out of the shower, neglected to shave, wore a black t-shirt and was barefoot in Levi’s, that he could accidentally stain the carpet with red wine, or even burn the house down, and she would forgive him and take him to bed that instant and have her way with him.

“Lorena used to look at me like that too.” He says as he looks from the knife in her hand to the sandwiches on the counter. “She said that the uh… scruff… _did things_ to her. I don’t know what she meant by that,” He winks, “but we always uh… had a nice night.”

“Um… I… uh…”

“You’re making dinner?” He asks, changing the subject.

Lucy blinks her eyes, trying to figure out if he was flirting with her. She takes a deep breath to compose herself. This is Garcia Flynn she’s dealing with. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with her.

“What do you mean I ‘changed?’” She asks, curious about what observations he’s made of her in the short time they’ve been reunited.

“Your clothes.” He nods his head at her, meaning her pajamas and burgundy robe. “Looks better than the oversized sweats you were in.” He smiles.

“Oh.”

Lucy nervously rubs her finger under her nose and places a strand of hair behind her ear. He is definitely flirting with her. Why? To make her uncomfortable and fumbling over her words? What does that accomplish?

He picks up a plate and takes it to the small dining table. He inspects the sandwich and though it’s not exactly appetizing, he eats it. It has to be better than the food he’s had in the prison cafeteria.

“I don’t recommend adding peanut butter to yours, Lucy.” He says while chewing. “Doesn’t go well with mustard or…” He swallows hard.  “… barbeque.”

Lucy licks the peanut butter off the knife and joins him at the table. She takes a bite out of her sandwich and grimaces. How is he eating this with a straight face? How could anyone eat this? She sets her sandwich back down on her plate with no intention of finishing it.

She watches Garcia as he takes another bite of his sandwich. She winces. Unless this is some kind of gourmet sandwich in Croatia, it’s just not possible that he actually thinks it tastes good.

“You don’t have to finish eating that on my account.” She tells him.

“It’s ok.” He swallows. “It’s better than the meals they feed me in prison.”

Silence engulfs them as Garcia finishes his meal. They move around the kitchen cleaning up, exchanging polite “excuse me” and “sorrys” as they maneuver around each other. Garcia picks up Lucy’s sandwich and finishes it for her as she washes the plates and butter knife in the sink. Once the kitchen is clean, they stand, leaning against the counters, looking at each other.

Lucy wants nothing more than to get off her feet and relax. Living at Rittenhouse headquarters has been stressful and emotionally damaging. She just wants time to herself without her mother buzzing around her like a fly, pestering her over every little detail about what she’s learned, or how she spends her spare time. Like Garcia, this is a taste of freedom she hadn’t expected. But she doesn’t want to leave Garcia alone for fear that he’ll find the gun under the kitchen sink.

“Does this place have Netflix?” He asks.

“I don’t think so. When I got here, they asked if I wanted to pick out any DVD movies for us to watch, but none of them looked interesting to me so I passed… sorry.”

“It’s ok. I never watched a lot of TV or movies anyway.” He licks his bottom lip. “I saw you put some books out in the living room. We could always read or… talk.”

Garcia grabs a can of Pringles off the kitchen counter and heads toward the living room. He sits down on one end of the couch and Lucy the other. He offers her the can of potato chips.

“I know it’s not much of a meal, but I don’t want you going to bed on an empty stomach.” He explains.

“Thank you.” Lucy smiles and takes the potato chips from him.

“I saw that you had them stock the fridge with some produce and ground meat. How about tomorrow I make dinner? I think with what we have here I can make my mother’s spaghetti.”

“I’m sorry I’m not much of a cook. I grew up with my nose stuck in a book. Always studying so I could get perfect grades on all my history tests. I wish my mother had spent time teaching me how to cook, but uh… grades were everything to her.” Lucy sighs. She’s bitter. “Did you know that once I got an A minus on a European history exam and my mother saw fit to ground me until I re-read my textbook and could pass _her_ European history exam?”

“No. I didn’t know that.” He smiles, happy that she’s sharing with him things that weren’t written in her journal.

“Meanwhile, Amy got a B in… I don’t remember what, and my mom took her to the movies. She was only nine years old, but still.” The smile fades from her face. “Looking back, all I see now is how my mother was grooming me for Rittenhouse. When we first met at the Hindenburg you told me to ask them why they chose me for the mission.”

Garcia nods his head and says nothing as she continues.

“I never… I never asked, and I never figured out why they wanted me on that team. I’m sure it had something to do with my father wanting me to join Rittenhouse.” She shakes her head. “I know that no one had any way of knowing that my mother would be saved, but… she knows it happened and she uses that against me. Thinking that since I love her that I’m more willing to do anything she asks of me because I almost lost her.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Lucy.”

For only a moment, she considers telling him the most recent thing her mother has asked her to do: kill him. She decides against it.

“My mother and father come from pure blood Rittenhouse families. My mother says that almost makes me royalty.” She looks at Garcia for his reaction. She expected him to look at her with disgust. By blood, she’s tied to the very people who murdered his family.

“I’d never hold that against you. I want you to know that.” He tells her, meaning every word he said.

“I’m not Rittenhouse. I don’t want to be Rittenhouse. I hate everything they stand for, everything they want to do. And it’s not like they tell me everything. I still don’t know why they’ve been taking the Mothership on trips. I don’t know what history they’ve already changed. I could wake up one day with some stranger asleep by my side and have no idea that I’m not supposed to be with him.” Lucy shakes her head and quickly wipes a tear from her face. “That happened. I came back and I was engaged to a man I had never met. I don’t know if he was Rittenhouse or not, but my mother seemed to love him.”

“Noah?”

Lucy nods her head.

“You mentioned him a couple times in the journal.”

“Was he-”

“He wasn’t Rittenhouse, but they were looking to bring him into the group.”

“Oh.” Her heart sinks. “I mean… I could wake up one day and be fully indoctrinated into their ideology and not have a clue as to who I am right now.” She wipes another tear from her face. “I’m afraid to sleep.”

“Lucy…”

“And the only thing that I have that could remind me of who I am is that journal. And they have it. Rittenhouse has the journal and they keep it in the Mothership so that it doesn’t change. So that it serves as a record of what history was… who I was. Their manipulation of me is of high importance. I’m afraid of what they want to do to me. Why is it so important for them to know what personal things I wrote?” Her voice cracks as tears fill her eyes. She feels no control of her own life.

Garcia is quiet. He doesn’t know what to say to assure her that everything is going to be ok because quite frankly, he has the same fears. He has doubts about what the future holds and he’s not in any position to do anything about it. He watches Lucy cover her mouth to stifle a cry. He listens to her as she continues to pour her heart out to him.

“Do you know what it’s like not to trust who you are when you wake up in the morning?” She sobs, looking into his eyes.

Garcia opens his mouth to try to find words to say to comfort her, but he has nothing.

“C’mere.” He inches close to her and wraps his arm around her shoulders, using his hand to press her head against his chest. Lucy grasps onto his shirt, holding onto him. The world is closing in around her and she feels like she’s drowning. All she has is Garcia Flynn to hold onto, to keep her head above water. He speaks softly to her, comforting words and assurances that they’ll figure this out together.

“I don’t think I can stop them, Flynn… if I… if I don’t do things that I’m asked to do…”

“I know how they operate, Lucy…” He understands that disobedience could get her killed, he pulls her closer to him and rests his chin on the top of her head.

“I’ve lost everything.” She cries.

“You haven’t lost me.”


	2. Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their volatile reunion the day before, Garcia and Lucy spend the day trying to redefine their relationship.

Lucy yawns, stretching her arms above her head as she wakes. The sun is shining brightly into the bedroom and outside birds are singing. She settles back into her pillow, pulling the navy-blue comforter up to her chin. She smiles as she allows herself a few more relaxing moments in bed, forgetting for a moment where she is and why. Her eyes adjust and her heart nearly jumps out of her chest. Where is Garcia Flynn?

She sits up, throwing the blankets onto the floor.

She doesn’t remember going to bed last night. The last thing she remembers is Garcia holding her in his arms as she cried into him. Her robe slides off one shoulder as she hurries toward the bedroom door. She stops, resting her hand on the knob.

What if he found the gun?

What if he’s sitting out there on the couch, ready to aim it at her? He would have more questions. How would she explain this? Would he believe her if she told him that she doesn’t want to kill him, but she has to? Not that she has to, but still… it is expected of her, and if she does not follow through Rittenhouse would kill her.

Last night Garcia said that he understood how Rittenhouse operates. He understands that she’s been held captive there. But what if he found the gun and thinks that she was lying to him?

There’s only one way to find out.

Lucy exhales and opens the bedroom door.

The scent of garlic, onion and tomato sauce fills the air. She finds Garcia in the kitchen, preparing his mother’s spaghetti sauce. She joins him in the kitchen, scanning the room to see if he found the gun and placed it out in plain sight because she can only imagine that is exactly what he would do to confront her about it. It’s not anywhere to be seen.

“Good afternoon.” He greets her. “Did you sleep well?”

“What time is it?” She asks.

“Almost three in the afternoon.” He stirs the sauce in the pot. “You missed this morning’s roll-call. It was thrilling, Lucy. I stood outside for a few minutes, they signaled that I was accounted for and I came back inside.”

“Sorry I missed it, sounds exciting.”

He laughs and it makes Lucy feel warm. She’s never seen him laugh before. She smiles at him as she leans up against the counter, in front of the sink.

“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t wake you earlier.” He says.

“No, and… tonight you can have the bed. I wanted you to have it last night but-”

“I carried you to bed after you fell asleep?”

“You didn’t have to do that, Flynn. If I fall asleep on the couch again, just leave me there. I’m used to sleeping on couches. I did it through high school and university. It’s no big deal.”

“I want you to be comfortable, Lucy.”

“And you have a prison cell to look forward to, I can’t imagine that I have it worse off with Rittenhouse.”

He can’t argue that so he shrugs.

“Well… now that that’s settled… I’m going to go get washed up and…” She motions with her hands. “… get my day started.” Lucy sees that the dish soap is still next to the sink and it’s full of dirty dishes that he’s used to prepare tonight’s dinner. He isn’t acting as if he’s found the gun. “So um… yeah… ok. I’ll just… you know… go.”

Garcia smiles to himself as he watches her walk away. He checks the pot of spaghetti sauce and stirs it again. It smells just like home and it makes him miss his mother. He covers the pot with its lid and goes to the sink and fills it with water. He’s wearing a grey long-sleeve t-shirt so he rolls up the sleeves and starts washing the dishes by hand.

He knows that by Monday morning he’ll be back, locked up in his cell, but he’s going to enjoy this sense of freedom that Lucy got for him this weekend. He wants for Lucy to enjoy it too. He knows she’s hurting. She cried in his arms for hours last night until she fell asleep. He knows whatever she’s been through hasn’t been good.

If they had more than just today and tomorrow, he would want to help her talk through whatever it is that broke her, but only if she wanted to. With Wyatt and Rufus dead, and all the other employees of Mason Industries, he and Lucy are the only ones left who know what is going on. He hopes that this isn’t the last family visit they’ll have as he enjoys her company. They’re married, on paper, after all. He hopes that he’ll see her again, as many times as she can get away from Rittenhouse.

Rittenhouse.

The reason why Lucy is here at all.

Once Lucy is out of the shower, they’ll need to sit down and try to figure out how she can try to defeat them, and if it’s possible for him to help her in any way from inside this prison. He unplugs the drain in the sink and rinses off the dishes. He looks around for a towel to dry them. He opens the cabinet beneath the sink and instead of a dish towel, he finds the gun.

His heart stops and he swallows hard, but he doesn’t touch it.

He quietly closes the cabinet door and walks away.

_So, that’s why she’s here. To kill me. For them._

He’s heartbroken.

How could he have been so goddamn foolish?

Lucy flat out told him that she’s with Rittenhouse now. She cried in his arms last night, holding onto him as if he were the only person she needed in this world.

He’s certain that any trip Lucy’s mother made to the past has ensured that she returned to the present to a daughter who has accepted Rittenhouse ideology, who had been indoctrinated at a young age, who _is_ Rittenhouse.  That she returned to a Lucy Preston who is capable of lying and manipulating even him to sympathize with her so he would let down his guard.

He wonders how much further Lucy will take this charade.

Will she try to kill him while he sleeps or will she have the guts to do it to his face?

And when she does try to kill him… will he be able to stop her?

Would he be able to kill Lucy Preston if it came down to that or losing his own life?

He likes to think that he’d be able to shove all his feelings for her aside to survive, but he’s not sure. He read her journal and memorized some of the most personal parts of it, entries about a relationship they were supposed to have with each other.

He feels like he knows her.

He fell in love with the Lucy on those pages and now it seems that Rittenhouse has changed her. You can change a person’s upbringing. You can change their past, but does it mean that the Lucy who chased him through time and who wrote that journal and gave it to him, is gone forever?

He doesn’t know.

With his men, he was adamant that none of them hurt her in any way. She was too important. She asked him to do what was needed to be done to destroy Rittenhouse. The Lucy who came to him in 2014, that’s the Lucy he’s fighting for. Maybe if he can talk to this Rittenhouse Lucy, get her to see reason, talk her down. To stop her from trying to kill him, then maybe he can turn her. Get her on his side.

Maybe she could be his person inside Rittenhouse when he escapes this Hell hole. Because, let’s face it, if Lucy is Rittenhouse that means that he’s the only person left to fight them if she doesn’t turn against them. He has to break out of prison. And If she doesn’t see reason before Monday, then he can kidnap her, and keep her as his hostage to ensure his escape.

This family visit is the best opportunity he has to get out of here. He could use that gun, hold it to her, and steal the car when Rittenhouse comes to pick her up. He could force her to stay with him. Make her join him. Force her to give him information about Rittenhouse so he can destroy them. If he can destroy Rittenhouse, then he could save her from them.

His heart breaks.

This shouldn’t be happening.

He shouldn’t have let it come to this.

This is on him.

If he hadn’t read her journal. If he hadn’t planned and executed stealing the Mothership, then maybe none of this would have happened. Her mother would still be sick and Lucy would never know about Rittenhouse. She would live her life and even though she might still follow in her mother’s footsteps and teach history, she would have a better life than what she is living now.

He has to do something. Lucy came to him in 2014, desperate for his help. She gave him her journal, wanted him to read it, and he did. As much as he feels to blame for this, she started all of it. She entrusted him to end it. To stop Rittenhouse and save the world, to save their future.

He sits down on the couch and picks up George Orwell’s _1984_ from the coffee table. He has to distract himself. Get his mind off of the fact that Rittenhouse went back and changed Lucy. That she is one of them. He opens the book to where he left off this morning.

_And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed – if all records told the same tale – then the lie passed into history and became truth. ‘Who controls the past,’ ran the Party slogan, ‘controls the future: who controls the present controls the past. And yet the past, though of its nature alterable, never had been altered. Whatever was true now was true from everlasting to everlasting. It was quite simple. All that needed was an unending series of victories over your own memory. ‘Reality control,’ they called it: in Newspeak, ‘doublethink.’_

This is where Rittenhouse can succeed. Each time they change history they alter the memories of the entire world, and that is a very powerful weapon.

They fuck with the past to control the present and the future.

They can alter the past to change Lucy or anyone else that they please.

Ever since he found out that Lucy’s sister had been erased from existence, he has tried to figure out exactly how Rittenhouse accomplished that feat. After the Hindenburg, Lucy’s mother was saved. How? They had no agents from 2016 present on the ground during that trip. He accepts the blame for erasing Amy, but who is to blame for saving Carol Preston? Unless…

No.

There’s no way that Lucy would have been an active member of Rittenhouse in that original timeline. She had no idea what he was talking about when he told her to ask about Rittenhouse. He detected no deceit in her eyes or facial reaction to hearing that name. But what about Wyatt Logan or Rufus Carlin? Could either of them have done something in 1937, as an agent of Rittenhouse, to save Carol’s life? Stiv was his brother-in-law, but what if he had been a member of Rittenhouse? That thought stabs him straight in the heart. If Stiv was Rittenhouse, could Lorena have been as well?

No.

Rittenhouse murdered her. They murdered her four days after he asked his NSA contact, Jake Neville, to look into Rittenhouse. Agent Neville was one of them, not his wife.

Someone with Rittenhouse had to have been in New Jersey in 1937 to pull it off. Someone in 1937 must have had information on how they could save Carol Preston’s life in 2016. And if it wasn’t Lucy then who was it? He knows how Rittenhouse works. He knows that coincidences aren’t just coincidences with them. If Carol Preston was sick and they wanted her alive they would manipulate whoever they could to save her.

“Flynn?”

He lowers the book into his lap and looks up at Lucy. He knows that his face is giving away the fact that his attitude towards her has changed since he found the gun. She approaches him cautiously, she is concerned. He eyes her carefully. She’s wearing a white t-shirt and… could she be concealing another weapon in a pocket of her jeans?

“Yes?” He answers her, sounding angrier than he intended.

“I said your name five times and you didn’t answer me. Are you ok?”

Lucy sits down next to him and rests her hands in her lap.

“I’m tired. That’s all. I didn’t sleep well last night.” He explains.

“All the more reason for you to take the bed tonight.”

Lucy places her hand on his knee as a kind gesture, but it just pisses him off. He hasn’t forgotten that there is a gun hidden underneath the kitchen sink, and he isn’t going to let her charm him into forgetting about it. He stands up, throwing the book on the couch. He storms off toward the kitchen as Lucy watches with a slack jaw. This is unexpected after she thought that they had found common ground and were getting along. She was hoping that maybe they could finally figure out a plan on how she can proceed to trying to take down Rittenhouse from inside.

She stands up and follows him. She knows that she’s been through shit with Rittenhouse just as he has been through shit in prison. He carries emotional and physical scars and bruising, and isn’t afraid to lash out at her. Lucy carries emotional and physical trauma too, but buries it. Together, they are like fire near a powder keg. Lucy doesn’t know what to expect so she approaches him carefully, remaining calm.

“Did I say something to upset you?” She asks, concerned.

“Were you able to save your sister?” He asks with his back to her. Anger lingers in his voice.

“What?”

“Your sister.” He turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Were you able to save her? I mean, you talk about her quite a bit in your journal. I’m assuming she’s important to you. I can’t imagine any reason why you’d be here with me if you could spend more time with her. Unless you don’t care about her anymore, or maybe you don’t remember her.” He accuses.

Lucy blinks in disbelief. She wonders what triggered this from him.

“Was… was I supposed to have saved her? Is that what I said in the journal?” Lucy is hurt, and if she was supposed to save Amy and somehow failed to do so… she would never be able to forgive herself.

“Why should I tell you anything that was in the journal?” He snaps back.

Lucy shakes her head, “I wasn’t able to get her back. Agent Christopher secured permission for me to take the Lifeboat out for one last trip to make sure my mom met my… Amy’s dad, but we had to charge the Lifeboat so I went to see my mom. I wanted to tell her goodbye in case I returned and she was sick again… I wanted to tell her one more time that I loved her…” She trails off.

She feels sick to her stomach thinking about how it felt like a punch in the gut when her mother told her that Rittenhouse wouldn’t allow her to go back to make her sick again all so she could save Amy, ‘some girl’ that no one but she knew or cared about.

But Lucy wasn’t the only one who knew about Amy. Garcia Flynn knew about her from the journal. She told Wyatt, Rufus, Jiya, Mason and Agent Christopher that she had disappeared. They all knew she had existed even if none of them had ever met her.

Garcia watches her carefully, trying to read into every movement and facial expression. Regardless of the gun hidden beneath the sink, he needs to know for sure where Lucy stands. If she’s with him or against him. For all he knows, she used her newfound influence in Rittenhouse to sneak the gun here so she could give it to him. To help him escape. He doesn’t know her true intentions. He doesn’t want to ask. He wants her to reveal them to him. He wants her to come to him with the gun whether it’s to try to kill him or something else.

“Rittenhouse will never let me save Amy.” Lucy stands directly in front of him now. “And I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I don’t appreciate your change of attitude. I thought that somehow, we came to an understanding last night. That we didn’t need to fight anymore.”

Lucy walks past him into the kitchen and lifts the lid on the pot of spaghetti sauce, she stirs it, dipping her finger in and tastes it. She’s turned her back to him because she doesn’t want him to see how much it hurts that he has brought up Amy. That she couldn’t get her back.

Garcia didn’t mean to hurt Lucy and though her back is to him, he can see that he has hurt her. He didn’t think that this new incarnation of Lucy even remembered she had a sister. He brought up Amy just to see how Lucy would react. To test her. If this Lucy didn’t know she had a sister, then his theory that Rittenhouse had gone back to change her would have been proven correct.

Now he doesn’t know what to do and he feels like an asshole.

Does he tell her that he found the gun under the sink? Does he apologize for asking her about Amy? Or should he remain distant and cold so if and whenever she tries to kill him it might be easier to fight back? If he has any chance at fighting her, he cannot make amends. But he’s a fool – in love – so he decides to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” He waits for her to respond. She doesn’t. “I never intended that to happen. Your sister disappearing. I… I never wanted to hurt you.”

Lucy turns to face him and stares deep into his eyes.

“Yeah, well… you did.”

She walks out of the kitchen, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she passes him. He doesn’t want her walking away from him. This conversation isn’t finished. He doesn’t want her leaving the room upset. He reaches out and gently takes hold of her arm.

“Lucy, I’m sorry-”

“Stop being sorry and do something about it!” She shouts, spinning around to let him see exactly how angry he’s made her.

“And what am I supposed to do, Lucy?!” He shouts back. “Break out of prison and steal a goddamn time machine again?!”

Lucy bites her lower lip to keep herself from crying. She’s under so much stress with Rittenhouse, she can’t take this anymore. She doesn’t want to fight with Garcia again. She wants to work with him, as a team. She wants to save history, stop Rittenhouse, save Amy, and help him save his family. That’s the only reason why she’s still in this fight in the first place.

“Yes!” She frees her arm from his grasp. “I need your help, Flynn. I can’t do this alone, not while I’m being held prisoner by Rittenhouse. They don’t trust me. I’m under constant surveillance. Maybe I could get to the Mothership. Maybe I could steal it, but I couldn’t go anywhere, not without a pilot. And I believe you were smart enough to watch Anthony and Emma and learn enough to do it yourself.”

“So, now you’re asking me to break out of prison?! Because if I do… then what?” He takes a step toward her. “I storm Rittenhouse headquarters on my own, kidnap you and we run away together through time?”

“To save Amy… to save Lorena and Iris… yes.” She looks up into his eyes. “A Rittenhouse agent will pick me up Monday morning, we can… we can come up with a plan. You could… kill him or tie him up, that’s up to you, but…” She’s thinking on her feet. “… we can escape.”

“And if we fail and the prison guards stop us? They could shoot me and you’d be facing prison time yourself, or worse if Rittenhouse decides to punish you. Is it worth that risk?”

“Yes.”

He shakes his head at her and walks to the window in the living room. He’s not sure he wants her to risk everything in this fight, not while she’s still innocent. And here she is willing to face imprisonment or death just to stop Rittenhouse and to try to save her sister and his wife and daughter. He doesn’t want Lucy to sacrifice her humanity to this cause. He wants for her to come out of this alive and able to live her life, to carry on, and to find happiness again.

He doesn’t want what happened to him to happen to Lucy.

Lucy stands next to him as they look out the window beyond the chain-link fence of the Oakland State Penitentiary. There’s a field where wildflowers are blossoming, birds are chirping, and the world seems blissfully unaware of the danger of Rittenhouse. Lucy looks up at Garcia, but he doesn’t turn to look at her. She speaks to him in a soft voice.

“You stole a time machine. You risked your life to do that _for me_ , because I asked you to, right?”

“I didn’t do that for you, Lucy. I did it to stop Rittenhouse and save my family.” He licks his lips and lies. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“You said that I gave you the journal. You read it and you believed what it said. You acted on that information” She touches his arm and his jaw clenches. “You trusted me, and as much as you did what you did for your family, you…” She takes a deep breath. “Flynn… I can’t imagine giving you that journal in the future and not having some kind of significant… _partnership_ with you. And you are good at reading people, if you didn’t trust me, you never would have sacrificed everything. So, as much as you did it for your family, you did it for me as well. Don’t lie to me about that. You said it yourself, we’re meant to become quite the team one day. Well… what if that day is now?”

Garcia turns and looks down at her. There’s hope in her eyes as she looks up at him. She’s calling him on his bullshit and he deserves that. Nothing that she has said is wrong. He read the entire journal the night she gave it to him in São Paulo. He closes his eyes and recalls part of the last entry in her journal from memory. He doesn’t dare speak her words aloud.

_… come back to me. Do whatever it takes to destroy Rittenhouse, but know that you can save yourself, you can be a father again if somehow things work out differently this time around…_

He can’t stay angry at her for long. It’s not in his nature to do so whether she’s Rittenhouse or not. They have a connection. A deep connection that even he isn’t sure he understands. Call it fate or destiny, but they are meant to be together. They are meant to be a team. He believes with every fiber of his being that he and Lucy are destined to destroy Rittenhouse together. He believes that if they don’t then Rittenhouse will win.

After his girls were murdered, he felt dead inside. He felt he had nothing worth living for and was frequently thinking of taking his own life to end it all. The journal saved him. Lucy saved him. He owes his life to her. The words she said to him in São Paulo, the words he read in her journal, they all gave him a possible future to look forward to. Something to fight for. Hope.

“Flynn…” She begs. “Please, talk to me.”

He turns to her and caresses her shoulder with his hand and says, just above a whisper, “I need time, Lucy.”

She wraps her arms around herself as she watches him walk away. She doesn’t know how to read him. She doesn’t have the luxury of knowing his inner-most thoughts in some journal he gave to her. She knows he’s a good man. That he saved people in wars. That he has endured so much heartache and loss. She knows that he didn’t murder his family. She knows that he only wants to save his girls, just as she wants to save her sister. But when he says he ‘needs time,’ what does that mean?

Could he have found the gun?

Lucy looks toward the kitchen with a lump in her throat. She feels guilty and ashamed for hiding it. If he found it and didn’t let her know, what would that mean? Is that what he needs time to think about? How to deal with her bringing a gun to this visit?

She doesn’t believe for a second that he’s reconsidering whether or not to fight Rittenhouse. She knows how Garcia Flynn feels about Rittenhouse. He sacrificed who he was to try to do it. He is willing to give his life to taking them down.

Lucy’s phone vibrates in the back pocket of her jeans. She checks and sees a text from her mother.

MOM: _Change of plan. We’ll be picking you up tomorrow morning at 8. Emma and I decided that you are ready to go on a mission with us. Make sure that you do what you were sent to do by then. Please let me know when you get this text. I love you._

Lucy shakes her head. Of course, of _fucking_ course, her mother would rush this assignment. Lucy holds her phone in her hand and stares at her mother’s text message. _I love you_. Lucy has stopped believing in those words. Anyone who has ever “loved” her only did so for ulterior motives.

Love isn’t real.

LUCY: _Got it. Is John picking me up?_

MOM: _He’ll be on a mission with Emma tomorrow, we’re sending Caleb. Please be ready to go and don’t worry about cleaning up any blood._

Lucy feels angry and hurt and disgusted.

LUCY: _Ok_

MOM: _I know you can do this, honey. I believe in you._

Lucy throws her phone down on the coffee table. She needs to find something to do. She has the urge to go for a run, but that is against prison visitation policy. She looks around the room. There’s that TV, but she was told it’s not hooked up to anything other than the DVD player. She didn’t bring any movies so that’s out of the question. There are board games underneath the coffee table, but to play them she needs at least one more person and she doesn’t want to bother Garcia again.

She wants him to come to her when he’s ready to talk.

She goes to the bedroom and rummages through her overnight bag and takes out a digital music player and brings it with her to the living room. She finds her favorite playlist and hits play, turning the music down so that it doesn’t bother Garcia in the other room.

 _If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one_  
_Drying in the color of the evening sun_  
_Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away_  
_But something in our minds will always stay_

 _Perhaps this final act was meant_  
_To clinch a lifetime’s argument_  
_That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could_

_For all those born beneath an angry star  
Lest we forget how fragile we are_

Lucy sits down on the couch and listens to Sting’s _Fragile_. She thinks back on all the innocent lives that have been lost since they began to meddle with time travel.

Had Garcia accomplished anything before he was arrested? She understands now that if she and her team hadn’t interfered with him that he might have been able to stop Rittenhouse. It makes her sick, knowing that all that time she had been a pawn for Rittenhouse. They all had. They seduced Connor Mason with money to pursue his dream to invent a machine to travel back in time. Wyatt was assigned to kill Garcia Flynn, no matter the collateral. And Lucy was brought in as the historian, and she suspects that their intentions all along were for her to meet her biological father and bring her into the organization. They were proud of her for her role in chasing after Garcia.

Agent Christopher, Rufus and Jiya seemed to be the only ones unscathed by Rittenhouse, well… until Rufus and Jiya were killed in that explosion. They were innocent before all this – untouched by Rittenhouse – victims of their fight for control.

Garcia is on Death Row and Rittenhouse still wants him dead before the state can execute him. Rittenhouse fears him the most. He’s been locked up for six weeks and all they’ve been able to talk about is how they are going to kill him, despite his death sentence. How the death of Garcia Flynn is of utmost importance to the organization. They fear that he’ll manage to break out of prison and try to stop them. They’re afraid that he’ll hunt them down, infiltrate Rittenhouse headquarters, and steal the Mothership again.

If only they knew that she wants desperately to work with him to accomplish everything they fear.

 _On and on the rain will fall_  
_Like tears from a star_  
_Like tears from a star_  
_On and on the rain will say_  
_How fragile we are_  
_How fragile we are_

Lucy lies down on the couch and stares out the window. She needs to figure out what she’s going to do about her mission to kill Garcia. She knows that she can’t kill him. She also knows that if she doesn’t do it that Rittenhouse will kill her. They will see her as a traitor and death is the punishment.

The rest of the afternoon, Lucy and Garcia avoid each other.

Garcia would catch her checking in on him, a welcoming smile on her face, and he knew that she wanted to talk to him about what they discussed earlier. He chose to look away. To tend to the spaghetti sauce he was preparing for dinner, or to sit at the kitchen table and stare out the window.

He went into the living room once to get _1984_ so he could continue reading. In prison, he is denied access to books and other forms of entertainment in his spare time. He only had his bed, sink and toilet in his cell. He is sick of spending time with his own thoughts most of which were not good. He craves the escapism of literature. Even though yesterday he asked Lucy about Netflix, he’s really only a casual viewer of movies and television. Give him a book – good or mediocre – and he’s happy. He’s not even a fan of playing board games, but he does make an exception for Chess.

He hasn’t told Lucy, but he is thankful that she brought books for him. He hopes to get through at least three of them before Monday morning. He’s read them all before so he doesn’t have to spend time re-reading favorite passages or memorizing them.

No matter how much he tried to focus on reading, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting. He has always had a hard time escaping his own thoughts. He thought a lot about his mother. He had expected to see her yesterday. When he saw his visitor was Lucy, he realized just how much he had actually wanted to see his mother. Even if she hated him now for the things which he has been accused, he wanted to let her know that he loves her. He wants to know that in saving Gabriel in 1969 that she is happy. That he at least did that much for her.

He thought a lot about Lucy. She seems so sincere. She seems to want for him to break out of prison and steal a time machine to save her sister and his family. But if she truly is sincere, why hasn’t she come to him about that gun? He wants to trust her. He wants for them to be a team. That’s all he wanted from the very first trip back to the Hindenburg. He just… went about it with the wrong approach. The Lucy in São Paulo was already on his side. They were a team where she came from. He expected the Lucy of last year to be that same woman, but she was not.

He put one-hundred percent of his trust into her journal.

He believed everything in it was set in stone. But after Benedict Arnold, and killing David Rittenhouse… how Lucy stopped him from killing the son… how they found out together that Rittenhouse wasn’t a “they” that it was a “him.” Well… his faith in the accuracy of the journal dissolved. Everything dissolved after that. His team left him. He – God forgive him – had to kill Anthony Bruhl to prevent him from destroying the Mothership, which would have saved Rittenhouse and secured their power. He had even given up the hope of he and Lucy becoming a team. He was glad of one thing… if the journal wasn’t set in stone then he didn’t have to fall in love with her. It would be easy to fall out of love with her if they didn’t work together, if he didn’t see her every day. He was thankful for that.

But in her journal – before everything changed – she said they were close to defeating Rittenhouse together. That the two of them as a team were strong enough, and smart enough to figure out how to do it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Rittenhouse could be defeated if they _didn’t_ work together. Did the fate of Rittenhouse rest in whether or not he and Lucy worked together?

He doesn’t have an answer to that question. Only the passage of time will reveal its answer.

He thought about what she said to him that night in São Paulo. He thought about how beautiful she looked that night. She wore only black: black slacks, black jacket, and a black camisole top with her locket necklace. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked only slightly older than she is now. She was strong-willed, yet vulnerable. She looked at him as if he was the only person in this world that she could trust.

He was on his third drink so he wasn’t drunk, but he pretended to be so everyone would leave him alone. It was Christmas Eve and instrumental holiday music was playing – _Deck The Halls_ – as she asked him if the seat next to him was taken. He told her in Portuguese that he didn’t speak English and she called him on his lie. She had called him ‘Garcia,’ and assured him that she was a friend. That she wasn’t Rittenhouse.

She knew everything.

She knew that Rittenhouse killed his wife and daughter, she even knew their names. She introduced herself and told him that one day they would work together. She handed him her journal and told him that it will help guide him to destroy Rittenhouse. She confirmed that Connor Mason had built a time machine when she told him she had come from the year 2023.

She touched his face that night, holding his jaw in her hand. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled away, he saw tears forming in her eyes and she smiled at him. She told him that he was right about everything. That if he chose to steal the time machine, to go back to try to stop Rittenhouse, that the world would think he was a terrorist and a traitor. She told him that she and her team would get in his way, but to have patience. She told him to reach out to her, to understand that when he next saw her that she will think the worst of him, but in time she will come to realize they want the same thing. To stop Rittenhouse and to save the ones they love.

That night, Lucy spoke to him with a sparkle in her eye, as if he were her world, her everything. Her eyes carried hope even if her demeanor carried a sadness, a longing to stay with him longer than she could.

On the night that Lorena and Iris were murdered he had removed his wedding ring and left it on the bathroom counter. When he heard two loud gunshots muffled only slightly by suppressors, he got out of bed and retrieved his handgun from his nightstand drawer. He had no time to retrieve his wedding ring and left it behind as he escaped Rittenhouse.

Lucy unclasped the necklace around her neck and removed its charms into the palm of her hand. She took hold of his hand and placed his wedding ring in his palm. The ring he had left behind two weeks before in San Diego.

He couldn’t speak.

He examined the ring and saw the engraving: _Garcia & Lorena & Iris_.

There was no doubt that it was his ring.

He looked at her and she smiled and told him that she knew how much the ring meant to him. He wanted to ask her how she got the ring, but she bent over in pain, grasping onto her forehead. She let out a soft cry and tried to disguise it from him. He touched her shoulder and asked if she was ok. When she looked up, she told him she had to leave, that there are consequences for traveling within your own timeline. She begged of him one last time as she stood up to please do whatever it takes to stop Rittenhouse, to please read her journal.

Her last words to him that night were, “be careful, Garcia. You’re important in ways you can’t even imagine.”

She had trusted him to do whatever it took to stop Rittenhouse and he had failed her.

He had failed her in every imaginable way.

If he has a second chance to make things right, he needs to take it. He owes Lucy that much after he made her sister disappear after the Hindenburg.

And if she is Rittenhouse, maybe he can save her from them too.

He gets up from the kitchen table and checks on the noodles he has boiling in a pot of water.

Dinner is ready.

He prepares two bowls and takes them into the living room. Lucy is laying down on the couch with a book resting on her chest. Her eyes are closed as music plays from her music player, Glenn Miller’s _Moonlight Serenade_. He watches her unnoticed for a few moments before clearing his throat to let her know he has joined her. He sets her bowl of spaghetti down in front of her on the coffee table and takes a seat in the recliner. Lucy rubs her eyes. She looks as though she’s been crying, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you.” She sounds exhausted.

“It’s my mom’s recipe. I hope you like it.”

Lucy curls up in the corner of the couch nearest him and they eat in silence. After a few bites, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, nodding her head in approval.

“This is really good.” She tells him.

He only nods his head in reply as he eats. He’s touched. Growing up, this was his favorite home-cooked meal. His mother taught him how to make it before he turned twelve years old, and the recipe isn’t kept in any family cookbook. It has been passed down from generation to generation since the mid-1800s. Garcia never taught Lorena how to make it, but he intended to teach it to Iris when she got older.

He finishes eating and places his bowl on the coffee table then leans back in the recliner. He watches Lucy as she eats. He wonders if she’s been eating well at all. It’s been six weeks since he last saw her and she looks like she’s lost weight. At least she’s eating more tonight than she did yesterday, and he’s glad that she is enjoying the meal.

Lucy glances at him a few times as she eats, smiling and nodding her head. The silence between them is both awkward and familiar. But it is not uncomfortable for either of them. If this weren’t a prison visitation unit, and if there wasn’t a chain-link fence surrounding them, or a watchtower outside, this would almost feel like home.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick any movies for us to watch.” She breaks the silence.

“It’s ok. I don’t watch much TV anyway. I prefer reading, so… thank you for bringing some books here. I appreciate that. They don’t let me read in my cell.”

Lucy’s heart breaks for him. He’s spent six weeks locked up with nothing to do. She’s positive this cruel request was made by Rittenhouse. It sounds exactly like something Emma Whitmore would want to impose on him.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of books you liked so I brought some of my favorites.” She explains.

“I’m almost done with _1984_. Last I read it was when I was in school, in Croatia. I’d never read it in English before. It’s so much better in English than in its translation.”

“The original language is always better than a translation.” Lucy agrees with him. “When I was in high school, I started to read _Les Mis_ _é_ _rables_ in English. I found all three volumes of it in French at a half-price bookstore and bought them to read instead. It was so much more… what’s the word I’m looking for…?”

“Flavorful?”

“Yes, flavorful. Translations rarely give justice to the original flavor of a book’s original language. Like, I’ve read _The Book Thief_ in English and I can only wish that I could understand German so I could read it in its original language.”

“There are so many great passages in that book.” Garcia says, excited that she too takes an interest in reading in other languages. “I even…” He rolls his eyes at himself, “memorized some of my favorite passages.” He clears his throat. “She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Leisel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist’s suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers… She did not say goodbye.”

“Do you always make it a habit to memorize books you read?” Lucy teases, smiling as he quoted one of her favorite parts of the book.

“In both English and German. Both of them have very beautiful flavors… Menschen sterben an gebrochenem Herzen. Sie bekommen Herzinfarkte. Und es ist das Herz, das am meisten wehtut, wenn etwas schief geht und auseinander fällt.”

“Now you’re just showing off,” she says, wishing he were sitting next to her so she could playfully punch him in the arm.

“That’s the part when the Narrator speaks of people dying from a broken heart, how the heart hurts the most when things fall apart.” He gives a rough translation of the passage he just quoted.

“You’re German sounds… incredible.” She’s impressed.

“Danke shoen.”

Garcia and Lucy’s eyes meet and they smile at each other.

“When I was a kid I would put on plays for my Baka – my grandmother. I had a knack for memorizing long passages of text. Everyone thought that I’d grow up and work in theatre.”

“It wasn’t theatre, but traveling through time, adapting to different eras, dressing up in period clothing… that was kind of like acting, right?”

He nods his head, “I guess it was.” He takes another forkful of his dinner and swallows. “Did you always want to teach history or did you have other dreams of what you wanted to be when you grew up?”

Lucy laughs. “Why do I have a feeling you already know the answer to that question?”

He shrugs. He does, Lucy wrote about some things in her journal, but he wants to hear the stories from this Lucy.

“I almost quit history during my sophomore year in college to join a band. It wasn’t a childhood dream of mine to be in a band, but growing up everything was about history. I remember my mom reading historical picture books to me when I was just a toddler, visiting museums, going to Gettysburg, touring Notre Dame in Paris and being told I was walking where Napoleon Bonaparte had once walked.”

“But what did you want to be when you were a kid? Cowgirl? Astronaut…?”

“I wanted to be a dancer.”

“Seems like you and I both had a desire to perform.”

“I remember my first ballet recital. I was three years old.” Lucy closes her eyes. “I was on stage in a pastel satin pink leotard with a white sailor hat on my head.” She opens her eyes and looks at Garcia, he has a huge smile on his face. “Ballet at that age consists of shuffling your feet from side to side, or back and forth, while making large circles over your head with your arms as you sing.”

“What did you sing?”

Lucy sits up a little taller and clears her throat. She sings to answer his question. “On the good ship lollipop. It’s a sweet trip to a candy shop. Where bon-bons play. On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay.”

Garcia’s heart soars as he listens to Lucy sing _The Good Ship Lollipop_. He’s never seen her this happy before and this makes it seem like everything that was hurting her has been erased.

“Anyway… I was up there on that stage dancing and singing, and I saw my mom and stopped. I was the only kid on stage waving at her mom in the audience.” Lucy laughs. “And of course, my mom bought one of those early home video camcorders and that video has been a hit at all family gatherings ever since.”

“You have a beautiful singing voice, Lucy.”

Lucy smiles and averts her eyes. She’s not comfortable receiving compliments. “Thank you.”

“Iris used to insist that I sing her to sleep. I don’t know if that makes me a good singer or not, but… she seemed to love it.” He tells her.

“Care to share your singing voice?”

“Not particularly, I haven’t sung lullabies since… you know.”

Garcia lowers his eyes and finishes his meal.

“I’m sorry.” Lucy apologizes for unintentionally bringing up his little girl.

“Don’t be.” He looks at her. “I only have good memories of her.”

Garcia stands up and takes both of their bowls into the kitchen. He rinses them off and washes them with the dish soap from underneath the kitchen sink. When he and Lucy don’t talk about time travel or Rittenhouse, they get along well. He enjoyed discussing books, languages, and their performing arts experiences with her as they ate dinner.

He could get used to living with her. If only he could get out of this prison.

Her music playlist only added to the atmosphere, Marlene Dietrich’s _Falling in Love Again_ , Billie Holiday’s _I’m Yours_ , and Perry Como’s _Please Believe Me._ If Garcia had to guess, the 1930s and 1940s are Lucy’s favorite era in history, and he won’t file any complaints against the music of that era either. In fact, he too is quite the fan.

Those songs take him back to his childhood, spending summers visiting his grandmother in Mostar, Yugoslavia – now Bosnia and Herzegovina. His grandmother, Jana, was a musician and loved listening to music from when she was younger. She taught him all about Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Charles Trenet, The Glenn Miller Orchestra, Perry Como, Edith Piaf, and Marlene Dietrich. He memorized lyrics to songs and would sing along with them. His grandmother told him that singing along would help improve his English (or German, or French) pronunciation. She explained that she had used English music to help teach herself the language when she was a teenager.

She died when he was eighteen years old during the Siege of Mostar in 1993.

He never got to say goodbye.

He uses a towel to dry the dishes and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine himself back at his home in San Diego. Martha Tilton is singing _I’ll Walk Alone_ on Lorena’s old record player in the living room. Iris is chattering on about what she learned at school that day. He can see in his mind’s eye Iris sitting on Lorena’s lap, learning to read and being excited when she was able to finish an entire page of _The Velveteen Rabbit_ , her favorite book, without any help. How he leaned down and kissed them both on the top of their heads and told Iris that it was time to get ready for bed. She argued, of course, it was their ritual every night.

He opens his eyes and they are gone.

His heart aches for the way life was before he stumbled upon the word Rittenhouse.

He wipes a tear from his eye and hangs the damp dish towel on a bar on the cabinet door.

He rejoins Lucy in the living room. She’s sitting cross-legged on the couch. She’s changed into the pajamas she wore last night, the grey camisole and pants ensemble. She’s pulled her hair back into a ponytail, washed her face and is free of makeup and… she’s gorgeous. She looks even more beautiful without makeup on and dressed in her pajamas.

She’s looking down at something she’s holding in her hands. By the way she closes her fist, he can tell that whatever is in her hand means a lot to her.

“Dishes are clean.” He says quietly.

“I have something for you.”

Garcia is amused that she’s patting the seat next to her with her hand. He had wanted to keep his distance from her, but after their dinner conversation, that just wouldn’t feel right. He’s right back to believing that there’s no way she is here to kill him, even though she’s hidden a gun from him in the kitchen.

He sits down next to her and looks at her. He’s concerned. She looks like she could cry. Instead, she looks at him and takes his hand gently into hers. There’s something intimate in the way she touches him now, and he feels something small and cold press against the palm of his hand. Lucy clasps her hand around his closing his fingers around the object.

“I gave the guard Hell so he’d give me your ring. I… I wanted you to be able to wear it while I’m here.” She whispers. “Rittenhouse got me proper, legal documentation of our marriage so that I’d be able to visit you and I figured that as your wife that I could do this for you.”

Garcia does not wipe away the tears that have formed in his eyes. He never thought he’d see his ring again. He’s so overwhelmed with emotion that it literally hurts his heart. He opens his mouth, wanting to thank her, but he lets out a cry instead. Lucy rubs her hand on his back to try to soothe him, to let him know that it’s ok for him to cry with her.

“They’ll take it back when this visit is over, but… I wanted you to have it. I know how important it is to you.” It breaks her heart to tell him this.

“Then…” He struggles to compose himself. “… then… I want you to keep it for me, Lucy… when you leave.” He reaches out and touches her locket. “Keep it close to your heart for me.”

Lucy nods her head.

_I wished on the moon, for something I never knew  
Wished on the moon, for more than I ever knew_

His hands tremble as he places the ring on his finger, clenching his fist against his heart once it is on. He closes his eyes and can see the smile on Lorena’s face as she placed the ring on his finger on their wedding day nine years ago. He can hear her improvising her wedding vows after he recited his from memory. He remembers the day that they found out they were going to have a baby girl and decided to name her Iris. He took his ring in to have their daughter’s name engraved next to his and Lorena’s on the ring.

This ring is all he has left to remember them by.

He opens his eyes, feeling Lucy stand up. She’s walking toward the bedroom.

“Lucy…” His voice breaks as he calls out to her.

_A sweeter rose, a softer sky, an April day  
That would not dance away_

Lucy turns to face him, her eyes shimmering with tears. She wipes them away with the back of her hand. He walks to her. Takes her hand in his, holding it against his chest, over his heart. He pulls her to him and dances with her to Bing Crosby’s rendition of _I Wished on the Moon_.

_I begged of the stars to throw me a beam or two  
Wished on the stars and asked for a dream or two_

It hurts.

Lucy’s heart hurts for this man who now holds her in his arms.

If he weren’t imprisoned, and if she weren’t held captive by Rittenhouse… if things could only be different than they are now, she very easily could fall in love with Garcia Flynn.

Maybe she already has.

They’ve barely just begun to be friends. They’re still getting to know each other and no matter how much she wants to stay here with him, tomorrow Caleb is coming to pick her up and she’s still expected to (at least try to?) kill Garcia.

But this right here… she’s never felt this before with anyone else.

Garcia has angered her and she has angered him. He’s both endangered her life yet he makes her feel safe and more alive than she’s ever felt. He’s challenged her in ways no other man has been able to do before. They share common interests. They like books and languages and history. He’s not obsessed with cars, American football, or the latest violent action movie. She’s been here with him for over twenty-four hours and he feels like home, and she feels loved.

_I looked for every loveliness, it all came true  
I wished on the moon for you_

She rests her head against his chest and closes her eyes. With him she feels safe, able to let down her guard. She trusts him with her life. The past six weeks broke her. She’s damaged. With Rittenhouse, she lives in constant fear. She’s been unable to grieve the loss of her friends. She’s learned to hate her mother and that hurts most of all. There’s a part of her that still loves her mother, of course, but she’ll never be able to look back at her memories without feeling betrayed.

Rittenhouse has taken everyone she loves away from her.

Everyone except Garcia Flynn.

Without him… she is alone.

In her room at Rittenhouse headquarters there is a mirror. She hates that mirror. She stares into it and barely recognizes herself. All she sees is a broken soul. She used to be so vibrant, so full of life. Now all she sees staring back at her is an empty vessel, and she’s allowed herself to surrender to it. It’s been six weeks and she’s endured so much. She forced herself to turn off all emotion to survive.

She is numb.

Here with Garcia she’s allowed her emotions to come forward and she feels like a wreck.

“Shhh…” Garcia whispers to her.

She hadn’t realized that she’s crying.

She wraps her arms around his waist needing to feel him close to her. She doesn’t care if he sees her so vulnerable. She cried herself to sleep in his arms last night and goddammit she needs him now. She wants for him to see her cry, to see her so vulnerable – it’s a side of herself that she’s never shown to anyone else. Before she wanted everyone to believe she was indestructible. That she was strong and in control. That nothing could get to her. But with Garcia… in his arms she isn’t numb. She can feel again and she needs to feel. She needs to express emotion. If she doesn’t it will destroy her.

And he doesn’t judge her for it. He doesn’t look at her as if she’s weak for breaking down and accepting his comfort. He doesn’t even try to tell her how to cope with how she’s feeling. He just allows her to be herself and holds her in his arms and allows her this honesty.

She needs him. This is what she’s been looking for her whole life. That one thing that she stopped believing in. She feels it now with Garcia, his arms wrapped around her, his voice calm and soothing as he tries to ease her pain.

Love.

He loves her and her heart aches. After everything she’s been through, after everything she’s done, she had convinced herself that love was out of reach, unattainable. Something that happened to someone else, not her. He doesn’t have to say the words for her to know how he feels. She feels it in the way he holds her and… Tears sting her eyes and she sobs into his chest. She wants to let it all out, tell him everything that she’s been through, to confide in him every secret, every lie, everything that has ever hurt her in this life. The music has stopped and the silence of the room closes in on her. She feels small and meek yet safe. They stand in the middle of the living room holding each other in their arms.

“Flynn… I can’t…” She cries.

Garcia holds her tight against him, wishing he could absorb all her pain and heartache. Lucy looks up at him with tears streaming down her face. She sees that there are tears in his eyes as well.

Her pain is his pain.

He rests his forehead against hers and her body trembles. She closes her eyes as he touches her face and wipes a tear away with his thumb. He whispers to her that everything is going to be all right. That they’ll figure things out together. That she doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

He holds her as if he never wants to let her go.

Lucy pulls back just far enough to look him in the eye. His hand cups her face and he traces his fingers along her jawline slow enough so that he can memorize the feel of her skin. Lucy parts her lips and gazes at his. He tilts her head back, curling his fingers beneath her chin to lift her face up toward his. His eyes search hers for consent and she gives it with a slight nod of her head. He leans down, his heart pounds in his chest as he feels her exhale on his lips. And then it happens. The alarm clock he set in the bedroom goes off and startles them both out of each other’s arms. They take a few steps away from each other.

Lucy holds her hand over her heart and looks at him with wide eyes.

“Why is the alarm clock going off?” She asks, wiping tears from her face.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I set the alarm to go off so I wouldn’t miss tonight’s roll-call.” He licks his lower lip. “It’s almost eight-thirty.”

“Oh.”

They are both disappointed and that reflects in their voices.

Garcia wonders if this is a blessing in disguise. Would it have really been the best idea to kiss? He loves her, but does she love him? He doesn’t know. And she’s so broken and vulnerable right now that even with consent he might not have felt it was the right thing to do – no matter how badly he wants for her to feel how much he loves her.

He looks at her.

She looks at him. She knows that she cares very deeply for the man who stands in front of her. She knows that he makes her feel safe and loved. There’s no doubt that she finds him attractive. But despite all that… she is unsure if what she feels for him is love.

Before time travel, she was involved with Jonas Lyger, the History Department Chair at Stanford. Six weeks ago, she thought she was falling in love with Wyatt Logan, before that she tried to explore if she could love Noah. And now she’s allowing herself to have feelings for Garcia Flynn?

She needs time to figure this out.

She needs to give herself time to breathe. To find herself again, especially after everything she’s been through at Rittenhouse. She does not need to fall back into the trap of only being able to find her self-worth in the arms of men, no matter how good Garcia makes her feel. If he truly does love her as she suspects, he will understand and respect that. 

“I guess I should… step outside and wave at the guards in the watchtower.”

“You should.” She nods her head. “I guess I should… well… it’s still early, but… I’m tired so… I’m…” She pauses in defeat, accepting that a proper sentence is not going to come out. “… get ready for bed.” She starts walking backward away from him towards the bedroom. “I’ll brush my teeth and then… I’m taking the couch.” She’s stern, wanting to remind him that he gets the bed tonight.

Garcia watches as she disappears into the bedroom and hears her shut the bathroom door. He runs his hand over the scruff on his face. What the Hell was he thinking? Lucy gives him back his wedding ring, the only thing he has to remember his girls by, and the first thing he does is dance with her and then almost kiss her? No matter what he – or she – feels for each other… that was inappropriate. They both crave companionship. He may love her, but he knows that she isn’t in love with him. Not yet at least, or maybe not ever.

The future remains to be seen.

Their emotions have been on a roller coaster since she arrived. They’ve had ups and downs. He’s even questioned whether or not he can trust her, or if she’s here as an agent of Rittenhouse to kill him. He’s been angry with her and then positively smitten with her. He’s cried and exposed vulnerability in front of her and she’s broke down in tears so often that she can’t possibly be in the right state of mind to make rational decisions about kissing him. He understands that before anything could happen between them that she needs to understand her feelings for him.

He sighs. It’s not like any relationship between them could go anywhere. He’s locked up in prison and she’s held captive by Rittenhouse. This visit may be all the time they have with each other before he’s killed.

He steps outside the unit and waves up at the watchtower. It’s dark out and he can’t see if they’ve acknowledged him so he takes a seat on one of the lawn chairs and waits just as he did last night.

After fifteen minutes has passed, he joins Lucy in the bedroom where she’s turning down the bed as she brushes her teeth. She doesn’t notice him as he watches her from the doorway. There’s something in the simple act of turning down the bed that makes her so beautiful in his eyes, so welcoming. He’s spent more than half his life fighting in wars, or working for government agencies. He even started his own private military sanctioned firm the year before his daughter was born. He has always been away from home, always living out of bag or suitcase. He didn’t necessarily enjoy having a military career, or being an asset for the NSA, he was just good at the job. The promise of having a family to come home to after years of living out of a suitcase seduces him.

Home.

He has always been most comfortable and himself when he’s been at home.

Lucy feels like home.

He leans against the doorframe and watches as she fluffs a pillow. She stands up straight and catches him watching her. She smiles with her toothbrush still in her mouth and disappears into the bathroom. He hears the water running from the sink. He decides to take a pillow and go to the living room to claim the couch. After holding her in his arms, hearing her cry… there’s no way in the world he’s going to let her sleep on the couch again. He wants only the best for her, even if the best is currently a bed in a prison housing unit.

He hears the patter of her bare feet chasing after him. He tosses the pillow onto one end of the couch and turns around. Lucy is looking at him in disbelief.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asks with her hands on her hips. “You’re sleeping in our bed.”

“Our bed?” He raises an eyebrow. He’s relieved that their almost-kiss hasn’t ruined the potential for a little fun banter between them. He bites his lower lip to keep from laughing as her face turns red. “Don’t worry, Lucy. I have no intention of consummating our fake marriage.” He winks at her and she’s taken aback by his overt flirtation.

“That’s not what… I didn’t mean to say… I want you to have the bed, Flynn.”

“I’m not arguing this with you, Lucy.”

“Well, I’m arguing it with you.” She picks up the pillow and starts back toward the bedroom. “I don’t know what you’ve been sleeping on lately, but I do know it’s not comfortable, and dammit, Flynn-”

“You can call me Garcia-”

“I… I… want you to…” She stutters, not expecting him to interrupt her to tell her she can call him by his first name. “… to… take our bed… I mean-”

“It is a queen size bed, Lucy. If you want to sleep next to me…” He smiles, she’s adorable when she’s flustered.

“That’s not why I’m here… _Garcia_ …” She says his first name as if it’s a question. It feels strange to her, calling him by his first name. “I know they provide protection, but I’m not here for a _conjugal_ conjugal visit-”

“Then why are you here, Lucy?” He asks in a more serious tone.

Lucy has no response to his question.

She’s already told him that she needs his help, somehow, to destroy Rittenhouse. They haven’t talked about that yet, and considering her mother sent her a text earlier, telling her that she needed to kill him tonight because they’re picking her up in the morning – less than twelve hours from now, actually – she’s running out of time to figure out what to do. She needs time alone to think. Not to read, or to talk to him, or listen to music, but to gather her thoughts, consider all options and figure out what to do.

“Look…” Lucy says as she steps toward him, placing her hand on his chest, pushing him backward toward the bedroom. “You’re not going to win this argument, ok? You get the bed. I’ll take the couch. You’re too tall for it anyway.”

“It worked fine for me last night.” He looks back over his shoulder to make sure he’s not going to run into a wall or trip over anything.

He could easily fight Lucy on this, but he lets her push him into the bedroom. She probably gets told what to do all the time by her mother and Rittenhouse, and he wants to relinquish control to her. To let her know that he sees her as his equal and will respect her decisions. He won’t argue with her right now on something as trivial as where he’s going to sleep tonight.

Once in the bedroom, Garcia sits down on the edge of the bed. Instinctively, he reaches out and holds onto Lucy. She looks down at him with adoring eyes and runs her hand through his hair, silently thanking him for listening to her. She turns to leave, but he takes hold of her hand.

“Thank you, Lucy.” He looks up into her eyes. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Lucy runs her finger over his ring. She nods her head and quietly says, “You’re welcome.”

She gives his hand a squeeze before he lets go.

She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

She lays down on the couch and pulls the small lap blanket over her body. She holds her hand over the locket around her neck. Yes, she does know just how much his ring means to him. It’s all he has in this world to hang onto his wife and daughter. Just as all Lucy has is her locket to remember her sister.

She sighs and closes her eyes. Her mother expects her to kill him tonight and she needs to figure out what she is going to do. If Rittenhouse shows up in the morning and she hasn’t executed this mission, they very well could kill her as punishment.

Once you’re Rittenhouse, you’re always Rittenhouse.

There is no leaving the organization alive.

Betrayal means your death sentence.

If she at least tries to kill him that might work. He could fight back. He might hurt her and any wounds she suffers because of it will at least show her mother that she tried. He could also kill her in self-defense, but she knows he won’t do that. No, not after the evening they just shared.

She lies on the couch for what seems like hours before finally falling asleep.


	3. As If The World Were Coming to an End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afraid of facing Rittenhouse if she doesn't kill Garcia Flynn, Lucy makes a decision that will change her life forever.

“Lucy… let me go… let me go… I don’t belong…”

Lucy no longer sees her sister while dreaming. She only hears her voice as if she were a ghost.

“… it’s ok… let me go…”

A loud crash of thunder wakes Lucy from her nightmare, one she’s had since her mother kidnapped her and held her captive at Rittenhouse. In this dream, Lucy finds herself wandering alone at night in a dense forest, dressed in early eighteenth century clothes. She emerges from the forest and sees the Rittenhouse mansion far ahead of her. She hears the distant echo of gunshots and men shouting. Then everything falls quiet and that’s when Amy’s voice haunts her… “… save him… let me go.”

Lucy slowly opens her eyes and shields them from a bright flash of lightning. She listens to the pouring rain outside the living room window, hoping to hear her sister’s voice again. Another roll of thunder vibrates throughout the visitation unit. Lucy rolls onto her side, reaching for her phone on the coffee table. It’s just past two o’clock in the morning.

In six hours, Caleb will be here to pick her up and take her back to Rittenhouse headquarters. Her stomach churns. She is expected to have killed Garcia Flynn by then. She fell asleep before she could give real thought to what she is going to do. She reaches down and pulls the blanket up over her shoulders, realizing that it’s the warm bed comforter from the other room. Garcia must have come out to check on her, decided she wasn’t warm enough so, he covered her. Lucy sighs and closes her eyes to force back tears. When Lucy was in high school, Amy would do this for her too, cover her with a warm blanket when she’d fall asleep on the couch.

When Garcia’s not being a stubborn ass, he really is a kind and considerate man. Someone she would gravitate to under different circumstances. A friend. No, a good friend. Someone she could see herself…

Lucy shakes the thought from her head.

That’s what makes this so horrible. She knows that Garcia cares for her. And if she’s being honest with herself, she cares for him too. It’s obvious that he’s attracted to her and she to him, otherwise they wouldn’t have almost kissed a few hours earlier. But everything is so damn complicated between them. One minute they’re fighting and the next, they’re in each other’s arms, shedding tears they dare not reveal to anyone else but each other.

Only a few months ago she was terrified of him, saw him as a terrorist who wanted to destroy America. And now that she’s a prisoner of Rittenhouse, sent to kill him… she knows that he’s the only person she can trust. Garcia Flynn is the only person who could help her destroy Rittenhouse.

She suspects that maybe he’s fallen in love with her. She’s suspected that since he kidnapped her and took her to the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893. He was angry with her after she stopped him from killing the young John Rittenhouse in 1780, but he still went out of his way to steal her the nicest dress and accessories he could find. When his henchman, Karl, left them alone, he turned his back to her so she could have privacy as she changed. She sat down to put up her hair and he insisted that he help her. She tried hard to remain angry with him as he expertly styled her hair, only uttering under his breath as an explanation, that he had helped his wife in the past.

He didn’t treat her like his hostage even though he desperately tried to feign that he was a threat to her, but after their conversation about his wife and daughter in 1780, back at the hotel in Chicago, she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Except for the initial rush of fear and panic of the unknown when he dragged her to the Mothership when he kidnapped her, she no longer feared this man, and she certainly wasn’t afraid to call him on his bullshit.

The entire kidnapping ordeal was like some kind of insane reality TV show where they pair up two people who are at odds with each other professionally or academically – the tentative title of this show would be _Enemies To Lovers_ – and make them go out on a date. Garcia was the idiot man who made all the wrong decisions and almost always said the wrong things, but still treated her respectfully. He bought her nice clothes and accessories, did up her hair, and let her have the bed as he slept in an uncomfortable chair in the hotel room they stayed in overnight. He even took her to see a Harry Houdini show.

Things went well, things were a disaster, and they even had a third wheel – Karl – tagging along with them most of the time. In the end, she got the better of him and saved her friends. And she still found herself looking forward to the next time they would meet. That turned out to be in Paris in 1927, where he had Karl kidnap her for him. Only that time he made sure that she – and Karl – understood that it wasn’t a proper kidnapping, and she was not his prisoner.

Now they are both prisoners.

He a prisoner of the state, and she a prisoner of Rittenhouse.

All she has to do is walk into that bedroom and tell him that Rittenhouse has ordered her to kill him and from there they can come up with a plan to break him out of here. They could run away. Fight Rittenhouse together. Once they were far enough away from here, they could contact Agent Christopher and have her bring them in.

They could build a more efficient team to take down Rittenhouse.

Lucy gets up from the couch and tip-toes to the bedroom door, and opens it. She looks in on Garcia. He is quietly snoring in his sleep. She watches him for a moment, letting him have a few extra minutes of peace before she reveals the truth of her visit to him.

Lucy leaves the door open only a crack and backs away. She’s struck by a rush of fear and panic.

No.

Considering she is here because of Rittenhouse, it’s not realistic of her to believe that she could break him out of prison and she could escape with him so they could work together as a team. Maybe if she had more time to talk to Garcia, to plan out some intricate plan for them to escape. But she has less than six hours before Caleb arrives and she is expected to have killed Garcia. If she doesn’t kill him, Caleb will. And then he will drag her back to her mother and Emma Whitmore, and the other Elders of Rittenhouse and they will all know that she failed her assignment. A loyalty assignment. And they very well could kill her. Hell, Caleb could arrive here with orders to kill her if she hasn’t killed Garcia Flynn.

Lucy closes her eyes and sighs.

She has to prove to her mother – and to Rittenhouse – that she made a good effort in trying to kill him.

She goes to the kitchen and sits down at the table and stares at the cabinet door beneath the sink.

A bright flash of lightning startles her and a crack of thunder rattles the pane of the kitchen window. Lucy’s breathing is shallow and she feels like the walls are closing in on her. She’s not a killer. She cannot kill Garcia Flynn, not after spending this much time with him. Not after getting to know him better. He’s important to her, maybe he always has been and she’s just now realized it. She cares about him in a way that she never thought she would.

But she can’t think about him.

If she thinks about all they’ve been through, where they started, where they are now. How he almost kissed her and she almost kissed him back. The way his arms feel wrapped around her. How his voice was soft as he offered her words of comfort. The way he smiled at her as they talked about books and languages and-

Lucy stands up and instead of retrieving the gun under the sink, she grabs the chef’s knife from the cutlery block. She knows that if there’s a fight that she stands a better chance of survival if they are only fighting for control over a knife and not the gun. And if she fails to kill him, as she plans to do, she can always explain to her mother that she was afraid the watchtower guards would hear the gunshot and get to her before Rittenhouse could extract her from the prison grounds.

She pushes open the door to the bedroom.

He’s still asleep in bed, completely unaware of what she is about to do. Her knuckles are white from holding the knife tight in her hand. She kneels down beside him on the bed – it creaks under her weight and she prays that he doesn’t wake up before she can... but she can’t… this isn’t who she is.

Lucy holds her breath, hating what her mother expects of her, what her mother believes her capable of doing… what her mother wants her to be.

A killer.

Her heart is racing and the room is spinning and spinning around her. The walls are closing in. She breathes in shallow breaths and closes her eyes. Her heart pounds in her chest. This is worse than anything she’s ever experienced. She’s afraid. She can’t breathe. She’s light-headed. She feels trapped.

She decides to count to three and then stab the knife so it grazes his torso.

_Please, don’t let him hurt me. Don’t let him kill me._

One… two…

She whimpers, her heart aching as it pounds in her chest.

She tries not to cry.

This is not who she wants to be.

This is not who she is.

This is who her mother wants her to be.

A murderer.

This is what her mother believes she is capable of.

Murder.

This is what her mother ordered her to do.

Murder Garcia Flynn.

She’s crying and she can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face.

Three.

She lets out a cry as she lunges toward Garcia with the knife. It stabs into the mattress next to him, failing to graze him. He’s quick to react and grabs Lucy’s wrists to stop her from trying to stab him again. He doesn’t hurt her. He doesn’t lash out at her or hit her. He grunts as he uses all his strength to flip her onto her back, pinning her beneath his body.

He holds her arm above her head and hits the back of her hand as hard as he can against the headboard until the knife falls from her grasp onto a pillow.

Lucy cries out in pain. He’s hurting her now and she deserves it.

She deserves everything that he does to her now.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to use the gun.” He growls at her; pain and betrayal reflect in his eyes.

He picks up the knife from the pillow and presses its cold steel against Lucy’s neck. She screams as lightning flashes outside and thunder rolls, muffling her cries. It would take just a small amount of pressure for him to penetrate her skin with the blade. And for the first time since he kidnapped her in 1780, she is afraid of him. She’s never seen him this angry with her before and it terrifies her.

He leans down and she can feel his breath on her ear as he breathes.

“They’ve been trying to kill me for weeks. Did you really think I hadn’t figured you out?” His heart is aching. He wanted to be wrong about his suspicions that she was here to kill him. “Did you think that I wouldn’t be suspicious of your visit?” Lucy writhes beneath him, struggling to free herself of his hold on her. He continues. “You said it yourself, you’ve been with Rittenhouse all this time. You’re one of them now.”

Lucy dares to lock her eyes with his. She’s terrified. Her heart pounds in her chest.

This is the most alive she’s felt since she was kidnapped by Rittenhouse.

She doesn’t want to die.

“Garcia… please…” She pleads with him through her tears.

“I trusted you Lucy. I wanted to believe you were here because you needed m-”

“I do need you-”

He presses the knife hard against her throat to keep her from speaking, but she manages to break free of his grasp. In one swift move, she grabs the knife, cutting her hand in order to try to pry it off of her neck. He’s too strong, but she keeps trying. She tries to knee him in his groin, but he reaches down and presses her thigh back down on the bed. She moves beneath him to try to get away and he places his hand on her hip to hold her still.

His touch is not harsh or painful, it’s gentle. Despite the anger in his voice, he’s being careful with her. He must know that she never wanted to hurt him. He has to know this. _Please let him know_. Lucy closes her eyes and feels the heat of his hand on her hip. She opens her mouth and gasps as she tries to move beneath him again and his hands hold her firmly in place. She opens her eyes and looks into his and it’s then that she knows that she wants to feel both his hands all over her body.

She wants him. She needs him. She craves to feel his mouth on hers, to inhale his scent as their bodies intertwine. She wants to open herself to him, to feel him take her as his own.  

She wants to feel alive.

“I don’t know, Lucy… should I kill you? I could claim self-defense. It’s not like I’m getting out of here alive anyway.”

Garcia throws the knife to the floor and looks down at her. The base of her camisole rests just below her breasts, her midriff exposed. Blood pulsates through his body. He straddles her, knees on both sides of her torso. He hopes that she doesn’t notice his erection. He rests his hands on her bare shoulders and she whimpers as he runs his hands up both her arms, raising them over her head. He repositions himself over her small frame and stares deep into her eyes. He licks his lips as if he’s deciding whether to restrain her and call the prison guards, or take her and fuck her into oblivion.

Lucy arches her back and tries to pull her arms out of his grasp. But he doesn’t give in to her. He remains in the dominant position. His breathing is heavy and there’s so much hurt in his eyes that it breaks her heart.

She senses that any threat to her life has passed.

The adrenaline has subsided.

He has calmed down.

He runs his hands slowly down her arms and watches her face for her reaction. She closes her eyes and moans her approval of his touch. He knows he can’t hurt her; he loves her too goddamn much. She moves beneath him again, and since he still doesn’t know if she’s going to try to kill him again – he doesn’t think so, but she is now Rittenhouse – he gently wraps his fingers around her neck and holds her in place.

“Lucy…” His voice is low, husky.

He can’t just let her go. There’s a gun in the other room and since it seems she really is a Rittenhouse agent; she could still try to kill him with it. He needs to figure out what to do.

“Harder.” Lucy tells him in a whispered breath.

“What?”

He’s taken aback by her command and that allows her just enough time to free one of her hands from his grasp. She places her hand over his on her throat. She locks eyes with him and repeats herself.

“Harder.”

He blinks and shakes his head as if to wake himself from a dream.

Is she asking him to hurt her?

His hold on her weakens and Lucy presses her hands against his bare chest. She pushes him onto his back and straddles him. Her hands trace the contours of his chest and he trembles as her fingers delicately glide over his many bruises. His heart is racing, aching, screaming out for physical contact. He’s been deprived of human touch for so long. He needs this, but…

He doesn’t know what to do.

He’s given thought to what it would be like to make love to Lucy. In none of those fantasies were they ever in a damn prison housing unit, nor had she tried to kill him. He always imagined it in the comfort of their bedroom, surrounded by soft blankets and warm candle light. He’d spend forever on foreplay, touching her in every way possible before propping her hips up underneath a pillow to allow deeper penetration. He would fuck her slowly, bringing her close to orgasm several times before taking her over the edge again and again.

But he doesn’t know what to do.

Not like this.

He closes his eyes and exhales, savoring the way Lucy’s fingertips explore his skin. She lowers her head and kisses a bruise on his chest. She looks up at him, making sure he’s ok then lowers her head again and kisses his collarbone. She slips her hand into his boxers and takes firm hold of him. She strokes him as slowly as he wants to fuck her. He groans deep in his throat and presses his hips forward, wanting her to stroke him harder. She tightens her grip on his shaft and rolls her thumb over its head as she kisses the crook of his neck. She understands exactly what he wants.

He wants to touch her, caress her bare skin with his hands. Kiss her as if the world were coming to an end and this is their last night on Earth. He wants her to feel how much he loves her.

“Lucy…” He whispers her name, his voice quivering.

She stops kissing his neck and looks at him. She takes one of his hands and holds it against her chest. He can feel her heartbeat. With his other hand he touches her face, holding her jaw in his hand. He looks deep into her eyes.

Her eyes are not that of a killer.

She looks lost.

Damaged.

She doesn’t know what to do so she decided to seduce him.

“Lucy… sweetheart… are you sure you want to do this?”

She blinks, wondering if she heard him right.

“I’m sorry.” She says with regret. “I’m so sorry.”

She runs her hand through her hair and wipes a tear from her face. She hates that she tried to fuck him in the hope that he would hurt her. She hates that this is how she’s trying to feel alive again. She shouldn’t have to feel alive only if she is in danger or in pain. Garcia reaches out and touches her arm.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

She shakes her head, disagreeing.

“I’m supposed to kill you tonight to prove my loyalty to Rittenhouse.” Garcia can hear the hate in her voice. She bites down on her lower lip and looks away from him, fighting back tears. “There’s a gun, but… I… I can’t… I’m not a killer.”

She crawls off of his body and sits on the edge of the bed. The truth is out, now it’s up to him how the rest of this night goes.

Garcia processes her words and realizes that she was never a threat to him. He touches her shoulder.

“Hey…” His voice is soft.

Lucy shakes her head and with all her strength she pushes his hand away from her. She doesn’t deserve his understanding or sympathy. She feels horrible about everything.

He respects her and doesn’t touch her again. He reaches over and grabs a handful of tissue from the nightstand. He hands it to her so she can hold it against the cut on the palm her hand. He remains seated next to her in silence, waiting for her to speak. He lowers his head and looks at the back of her hand. A bruise is forming where he slammed it into the headboard. Lucy closes her hand around the tissue to stop the bleeding. She refuses to look at him. She’s overwhelmed with guilt.

“I killed Jesse James.” She says this aloud for the first time, her voice weak. “I guess my mother thought that makes me a killer. But I’m not.” She turns to face him, lifting her legs up on the bed. She tucks her arms underneath them and rests her chin on her knees. “I’m not a murderer no matter how much my own _mother_ wants me to be.” She lifts her head and looks at him. “How do you do it so easily? Kill?”

“It’s not easy for me, Lucy. It never has been. I’m just… good at it.” He says, feeling ashamed.

Tears are streaming down Lucy’s face, and she doesn’t look away when he looks at her. Her shoulders are shaking, she’s shivering. Her eyes are begging him to help her even if she can’t say the words aloud.

He understands and says nothing and stands up, leaving the room.

Outside the storm is raging, rain pelts at the window as thunder rolls between strikes of lightning. Lucy lies down in bed and tucks the pillow under her neck. She squeezes her eyes and sobs into the pillow, clutching it with her hands. Her body trembles as she releases all the stress and fear she’s kept buried deep within herself since she was taken prisoner at Rittenhouse.

Garcia returns to her with the comforter in his hand. He says nothing as he covers her body with it and crawls into bed beside her. Seeing her like this, sobbing into his pillow, clutching it with her hand as she seems to be shutting him out… it makes him feel guilty. He shouldn’t have waited to see what she was going to do with the gun. He should have disarmed the gun, brought it to her after he found it, and he should have asked her what was going on.

Once again… he fucked up.

Lucy turns into him and rests her head just under his shoulder. She wraps her arm around his waist and pulls herself closer to him. That’s how it’s been between them this weekend. First, they fight, then they find comfort in each other’s arms. It’s been quite a roller coaster of emotions and it’s exhausted her. Now that she’s told him the truth maybe that will stop. Maybe they are finally on the same page. She feels him rest his chin against the top of her head and his arm wrap around her waist.

Anyone else in his position would still be angry with her, but he understands. He understands her and whether that’s because of the journal, or some cosmic connection they share, she doesn’t know. All she knows is that she doesn’t deserve him. She doesn’t deserve his comfort or his understanding.

She doesn’t deserve Garcia Flynn, but he is here for her now in ways that no one else is.

“I want to finish what we started.” She whispers as she runs her fingers through his greying chest hair. “I want to take down Rittenhouse for good. I’ll do whatever it takes now.” She turns her head up to look at him. “And I want you by my side. I don’t want us to fight anymore.”

“Do you have a plan to get me out of here?”

Lucy shakes her head in defeat.

“I have no idea what to do, Garcia. In a few hours, Rittenhouse is coming to pick me up. They expect you to be dead. I suppose you could…” She trails off, not wanting to suggest he kill the Rittenhouse agent, especially after he told her that killing isn’t easy for him. She doesn’t want to add any weight to the burdens he already carries on his shoulders.

“I could shoot him in the kneecap.” He suggests playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

This gets a small chuckle out of her.

“I only kill if I have to, Lucy. I don’t kill because I want to.” He caresses her arm with his fingertips. “If this Rittenhouse guy tries to kill you, then I’ll consider more lethal options.” He pauses and licks his lips. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I… I had convinced myself that you had joined Rittenhouse, and you… and the knife...”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on. I should have told you about that immediately.”

“It’s ok.” He assures her.

“Rittenhouse has the journal.” She tells him this expecting him to be angry. She knows that the journal meant a lot to him.

Garcia takes a moment to process this. There was a lot of information in the journal. Personal details about he and Lucy. Information you wouldn’t want your enemy to have.

“Did you read it before they took it from you?” He asks.

“No… I meant to, but I was so excited that Agent Christopher had secured permission for me to go back and save my sister that… It was the furthest thing from my mind.”

“So much history has changed, Lucy. You wrote about all the different time periods that we visited. There were some places we never went to. Not that I necessarily wanted to keep traveling in time, but when I read the journal and stole the Mothership, I expected everything to play out exactly as you wrote it.” He rolls onto his side to look at Lucy. “You wrote about us going back to 1692 and the Salem witch trials. How we were witness to Robert Johnson recording his records in 1936. The suffragette movement in the early 1900s. How we met Harriet Tubman and Margaret Hamilton, John White, Edith Wilson… Nicholai Romanov... Tesla…” He hesitates and takes a deep breath. “How we… survived the sinking of the Titanic.”

“We were on the Titanic?”

“We were supposed to be. According to your journal, I became part of your team with Wyatt and Rufus. You didn’t say how that happened or why. Your entries were all over the place. Not in any discernable order. You wrote about Benedict Arnold before the Hindenburg, Salem before the Alamo-”

“What did I write about us?” Lucy gently runs her fingers over a bruise on his abdomen. “Tell me our story.”

“What makes you so certain there’s an us?” He asks, placing his hand on her waist.

“We danced… we almost kissed… we keep finding our way back into each other’s arms…” Lucy cups her hand on his jaw, caressing her thumb against his stubble. “We’d both be lying if we tried to deny that there’s nothing between us.”

Garcia places a kiss on her forehead and lies down on his back. He memorized her journal just as he memorized passages of his favorite books.

“Was it pre-ordained to bring Flynn and I together, I’ll never know. I sat wrapped in a blanket lost in thought and then Flynn kissed me and finally the pain I’ve felt for so long dissipated. So, I kissed him back… again. And again.” Garcia recites from memory, her journal. “It wasn’t just the right time and place. And it wasn’t because of the cold. Whether we admit it or not we needed each other that night. I could see it in the way he took me in his arms, the same arms I used to run from. But not anymore. That night I felt safe, and protected, and loved.”

He pauses and looks at her for reaction. She only nuzzles into him more. He continues.

“Everyone was exhausted when we returned to the bunker and as I’d been doing, I made my way to Flynn’s room. I didn’t know what to expect. I wanted him but I was scared he didn’t really want me too. He was already in bed, tears in his eyes and I crawled in next to him. He held me in his arms and I held him in mine. We said nothing. We never had to say anything to let the other know what we were thinking. Surviving the Titanic was the most traumatic mission either of us had experienced. To witness the death and desperation for survival, knowing that less than one-third of the passengers on the ship were going to survive and there was nothing we could do about it. It broke us. We had both lost so much. He his family, and me, my own. As much as these missions were about trying to stop Rittenhouse, Flynn and I cared more about saving people. If we could prevent someone else, even one person from experiencing the loss we felt…”

Lucy lets out a soft cry. He looks down at her and wipes a tear from her face.

“I can stop if you want me to.” He tells her.

“No. Please… I… I want to hear it.”

Garcia nods his head. While he might be able to recite the journal from beginning to end, he decides he’ll tell her what she wanted to hear: their story.

“We only had each other. Flynn had become my best friend, the only person in the world that I could trust, and he felt the same for me. He gave me the confidence to believe in myself again. We were inseparable. Not just as a couple but as a team. It wasn’t easy for us, coming to the decision to steal the Lifeboat and leave our friends behind. But they were only holding us back in our fight against Rittenhouse. Denise insisted that waiting for Rittenhouse to jump and then us chasing after them was the most effective way to try to stop them, but it wasn’t. Flynn’s initial approach was the correct approach. We had to go after Rittenhouse in the past to prevent them from gaining power. He still had contacts he trusted and we were able to hide the Lifeboat in an abandoned missile silo in Montana.”

Lucy clears her throat and interrupts him. “I know the Lifeboat was destroyed in the explosion at Mason Industries, but… if we break you out of here and manage to steal the Mothership from Rittenhouse… they have the journal. They’ll know we would hide it in Montana.”

Garcia nods his head, agreeing with her. “So, that’s the plan then? I break out of prison and you and I steal the Mothership from Rittenhouse together?”

Lucy nods.

“We don’t have to abide by what you wrote in the journal. There are other places we could hide the Mothership.”

Lucy settles into him again as he strokes her shoulder with his thumb. She wonders if she’ll ever have to write the journal. If she does, the entries won’t be the same as the ones he’s memorized. Will she have to go back in time and give him the journal? She doesn’t know. She sighs and closes her eyes, listening to him recite more entries from her journal. They lived together in a run down, abandoned ranch in Montana. He used hidden funds to buy them horses. They would ride together for hours when they weren’t targeting Rittenhouse in the past, make love in the fields surrounding their home. She wrote about how she never learned to cook, but it was ok because Garcia was the better chef anyway.

They tracked down David Rittenhouse’s parents so they could prevent them from meeting so David would never be born. They fought about how erasing David Rittenhouse might erase Lucy from existence. Garcia didn’t want to risk losing her, having her disappear in front of him. She insisted that it was worth the risk to end Rittenhouse forever. That she would be willing to give up saving her sister if that meant saving the world from Rittenhouse.

“We never married before he died…”

Lucy gasps hearing him say this.

No, she can’t lose him.

Not after having lost everyone else she loves.

“… But we both knew that’s what we wanted. To marry, and have children of our own.” Garcia wraps his arm around Lucy. He doesn’t want to upset her, but this is a part of their story. “I came back from 1725 without him, unable to carry him back to the Lifeboat, unable to give him a proper burial. I still don’t know how to contact his family. I reached out to Agent Christopher and she welcomed me back to the bunker. She brought back Wyatt and Jiya, but we were weak. The team never recovered from losing Rufus. Jiya left less than a month later. There were too many memories associated with the bunker, and she needed to heal. It was just Wyatt, Denise and me. But something was off. I could never quite place it. Wyatt, of course, tried to crawl back into my life. He wanted a second chance. While I was willing to forgive him, I could never be with him again. He accused Flynn of brainwashing me, and using me for his own selfish reasons. He asked if Flynn and I had had sex, and if our relationship fell apart as he assumed it would. He even told me that I was wrong to trust Flynn. This broke my heart. Wyatt never made an attempt to get to know him, yet didn’t trust my judgement. Wyatt hates that I love Garcia, and he made sure that my life was-”

“Did I write about what happened between me and Wyatt?” Lucy asks.

“No, you didn’t. I just figured it had something to do with Wyatt’s obsession with his dead wife. You included newspaper clippings about his wife’s death in the journal. Wrote about his obsession with it and how you thought he needed to let go and move on.”

“I was… I was falling in love with him… with Wyatt, you know… before he died.” Lucy tells him.

“I know.” He licks his lower lip and looks at her. “I’m sorry he died.”

Lucy lowers her eyes and runs her fingers aimlessly through Garcia’s chest hair. She knows that it wasn’t smart to allow herself to fall in love with Wyatt. She understood from the very beginning that Jessica would always be the only one he loved, and he was Hell bent on saving her life, even after they shared a kiss and spoke several times about the possibilities between them.

“Why did you… I mean, I know you suggested that I came from the future to give you the journal, but… what made you decide to follow through? To steal the Mothership in the first place? I know you want to save your family, but…”

“Are you asking what you said that convinced me to do it?” He runs his fingers up and down her arm as he looks at her. She nods her head, so he answers. “You knew about Rittenhouse. You knew everything that happened the night my girls were murdered. You gave me hope.”

“How? Everything you’ve recited from the journal isn’t exactly… inspiring. It wouldn’t give me hope.”

“I knew that I could love again. That I wasn’t going to be alone. That I’d have a partner in my quest to destroy Rittenhouse, and…” He trails off, uncertain if he should say anymore.

“And…?” Lucy raises her eyebrow, encouraging him to continue.

“There was something in the final entry that… that I wanted to change.”

“Other than making sure you don’t die?”

He nods his head.

“What did I write?”

Garcia takes a deep breath before reciting the final entry of the journal to her. “Come back to me. Do whatever it takes to destroy Rittenhouse, but know that you can save yourself, you can be a father again if somehow things work out differently this time around.”

He pauses, pulling Lucy closer to him. He hesitates to recite the final lines of the journal. It’s painful, but it’s what made him fight so hard these past few months. He closes his eyes and continues, his voice breaking.

“I… I lost our baby in my grief over losing you and now I am alone. I know right now you are angry and you are grieving your wife and daughter, but it gets better. You never stop loving them, and I never want you to. I never want you to forget them. I won’t beg you to steal a time machine. I want you to decide for yourself what you will do with this information. If you choose to do nothing, I’ll never know and somehow, I still believe that you will be ok. You’re stronger than you know, Garcia. Take care of yourself, and know that in this timeline, and others, that you will always have me, and I love you.”

Lucy swallows hard as tears fill her eyes.

She will lose a baby, their baby. But only if things played out as she wrote about them in the journal. That doesn’t have to be their future. They can change it, make it better. Amy’s voice echoes in her head. _Make your own future_. And they can.

They can make their own future.

If she finds herself pregnant with his child one day, and if they are still fighting Rittenhouse, they can make different decisions. They can save their baby. They can save their future. He doesn’t have to die.

The journal he memorized means nothing. They changed so much history these past few months that it erased everything he knew from the journal. The future is waiting to be written anew, a clean slate. Her feelings for Garcia are confusing right now. Could she love him? Yes. Is she already in love with him? She’s not sure. She’s broken and being here with him makes her feel safe. In his arms she feels loved.

Lucy tilts her head back and looks at Garcia. He’s crying too. She reaches up and wipes a tear from his cheek with her thumb. She traces the outline of his jaw until her hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

Hope.

That’s the one thing that she’s gaining from this. Before, when she was inside Rittenhouse headquarters, she had given up hope. She accepted that she would never see her sister again _… let me go…_ She accepted that she would die fighting Rittenhouse on her own. Now, with Garcia at her side, anything seems possible. It won’t be easy, but she believes they can get through it together.

She exhales and trusts that somehow everything will be ok.

Lucy falls asleep in his arms listening to the storm outside, but Garcia can’t sleep. He stays awake to watch over her. He’s missed this. Sleeping next to someone, watching her sleep. The gentle way her body rises and falls with each breath she takes. There’s no turning back now. He knows without doubt.

He loves Lucy Preston.

He understands that in this new timeline, Lucy might never fall in love with him, and he doesn’t expect her to. That was a promise made in a journal that is no longer accurate. It told the story of a different future, another timeline. And that doesn’t matter. If all he has is her trust and friendship, he will be happy. He only wants what’s best for her. And he would never impose himself on her if his feelings weren’t reciprocated. All he knows is that they are leaving this prison together in a few short hours from now. And he knows that she will never go back to Rittenhouse again. He would give his life to ensure that.

He must have fallen asleep because when he wakes, he hears Lucy humming _I Wished on the Moon_ to herself in the kitchen. He smiles and stretches his arms above his head before he gets out of bed. He showers and gets dressed in the same black t-shirt and jeans that he wore the other day.

He looks at his reflection in the mirror and runs his hands over the stubble on his face. He’s stared at his reflection many times since São Paulo. He’s questioned whether he was doing the right thing by changing history. He’s questioned his own loyalty to Lucy and her journal countless times before and after he stole the Mothership.

Each time he saw his reflection he thought back to the night he raided Mason Industries and stole the Mothership. He recalls the fear he saw in his own eyes after he had strangled the innocent Mason Industries security guard with a cord, leaving him dead on the floor of his apartment bathroom as he stole his jumpsuit and ID badge. He didn’t want to kill that man, but he fought him, so he had to. And it affected him more than he had anticipated. He stared at himself in that bathroom mirror and saw his vulnerability and the damage already done because of his decision to do as Lucy asked. To use her journal as a tool to take down Rittenhouse. To try to change their future so that Lucy would never know what it was like to lose a child.

He chose to go after Rittenhouse because if they would kill his wife and daughter, and try to kill him too, just because he asked a single question… what else were they capable of? The journal mentioned Anthony Bruhl whom he contacted a year before the raid. Anthony told him all he knew about Rittenhouse. How he wanted to stop them before things got worse. Anthony told him that Rittenhouse had complete control over Mason Industries. That they intended to use the Mothership to go back in time to bend history to their benefit so that the organization could obtain worldwide power and no one would even realize what they had done. That was something that Emma Whitmore had confirmed later when he went back and recruited her to his team.

After he had killed that security guard, he fastened the ID badge to his jumpsuit pocket and watched as his hand shook. He had seen war. He had been a prisoner of war. But none of those things terrified him as much as knowing he was going to travel back in time to try to wipe Rittenhouse from existence. He had never handled a weapon as powerful as a time machine. A matter of seconds could save lives that had been lost in history, or take lives of those who should have survived. He understood that such changes could severely alter the present in ways that couldn’t be predicted.

When he found out that his actions at the Hindenburg had indeed erased Lucy’s sister from existence, he took it hard. He had never wanted to hurt Lucy. But he had to accept that there would be collateral for his actions. It was war. He lost his family to Rittenhouse and Lucy sent him on this mission understanding that… Garcia looks away from his reflection, the guilt still weighs heavy on his shoulders… but Lucy understood when she gave him her journal that his actions would erase her sister. She wrote about it in the journal.

She knew.

He looks down at the wedding ring on his finger. She knew just as he understood that no matter what he did, or how hard he tried, that he wouldn’t be able to save his girls. They had both lost their families to Rittenhouse and in their losses, they had found one another.

He stares into the mirror and he still hates the man he has become. But after this weekend, more so after last night… something in him has changed. His eyes no longer carry the heartache he had become accustomed to seeing. Fighting with Lucy, comforting her, and accepting her comfort… it’s changing him. He’ll never be the man he was before Rittenhouse murdered his family, but with Lucy he can… he can become something else. He no longer sees a monster staring back at him in the mirror. He sees a man who has fought hard, lost his humanity and is just beginning to find himself again.

And it’s because of her.

He joins Lucy in the kitchen and she’s thrown her hair up in a messy bun, and is dressed for the escape in jeans and a well-worn burgundy sweatshirt. Her hand is wrapped in gauze where she cut it the night before. She sees him and flashes him a smile.

“Good morning.”

“You’re in a good mood.” He responds.

Lucy goes to him and kisses him on the cheek, on tip-toes. She smiles. This morning when she woke up, she felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. She got out of bed without waking him because she wanted to do something special for him, to show her appreciation to him for last night.

“I tried to make pancakes, but they broke apart so I made pancake bites.” She retrieves a plate of broken pieces of pancakes. “I forgot to add syrup to the prison grocery list, but I…” Lucy takes a few pieces of the broken pancakes and shoves them in her mouth, “… I think they taste good anyway.” She says with her mouth full. “I didn’t burn them either and didn’t add anything to them like peanut butter or barbeque sauce.” She winks.

Garcia tilts his head to the side and picks up pancake pieces with his hands and gives it a try. After her sandwich that first day, he’s understandably hesitant to try her cooking. He swallows.

“Not bad, Lucy.” He winks back at her, taking another pancake bite.

She smiles and watches him as he washes his hands off in the kitchen sink and then kneels down and retrieves the gun from the cabinet. He shoves it into the back of his pants. She looks away, she still feels guilty for not telling him about that when she first got here.

There’s a knock on the front door of the unit.

“Lucy! It’s John! Open up, let’s go!”

Lucy looks at Garcia, confused. Her eyes are wide.

“John? My mom said that he was supposed to be on a mission with Emma right now.” Lucy takes her phone out of her back pocket to double check her mother’s text messages.

“Does it matter who’s come to get you?” He whispers.

“No.” She whispers back.

“Then why are you checking your phone?”

“I don’t know.” She says as she puts the phone back in her pocket.

“Don’t do that. You can’t take that phone with us. Rittenhouse could track it.”

Lucy nods her head and places her phone on the countertop.

There are three loud knocks on the door and John calls out for Lucy again, jiggling the door handle. Garcia looks at Lucy and takes the gun and turns off its safety.

“Let’s get this prison break started now, shall we?” He smiles as he cocks the gun. “Stand against that wall and as soon as I engage him, get out of here and wait for me in his car.”

Lucy nods her head and picks up her overnight bag, slinging it over her shoulder. She backs up against the wall next to the front door. Her heart is racing and she’s scared, but she trusts Garcia. She knows they’re going to get out of here as safely as he can manage, even if she expects his usual chaos.

Before he can make his move to answer the door, John shoots three rounds into its lock and kicks the door open. He sees Garcia is still alive and takes aim at him. Garcia is swift as he dodges out of his aim, and grabs the man, pulling him inside the unit before he sees Lucy. John shoots off another round that goes straight into the kitchen floor just barely missing Garcia’s foot.

Lucy covers her mouth and muffles a scream as she quickly runs from the house. She hopes that the guards in the watchtower aren’t looking in her direction otherwise prison security will be made aware of this prison escape. She hears another three, four, five, six shots fire as she opens the passenger side door of John’s car and gets in. She sinks into the seat and waits for Garcia, hoping that he emerges from the unit and not the Rittenhouse agent.

BAM! BAM!

Two more rounds are fired. She looks out the window and sees Garcia running to the car. Lucy sits up straight, leans over and opens the driver’s side door for him. The keys are still in the ignition. She starts the engine. Garcia gets in and slams the door shut.

“He’ll be limping for a couple months, that’s all.” Garcia says, forcing a smile to try to keep Lucy calm. He knows that it’s going to be a rough ride out of here.

Sirens start to wail from the prison.

Garcia slams his foot on the gas and drives toward the main gate.

In the prison’s surveillance room, a monitor plays back the video of Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston’s escape. Their car splashing through puddles, taking sharp turns to avoid being shot by security officers on the ground, but also the marksmen in the watchtower. Garcia managed not to kill anyone during the whole ordeal. Not even Rittenhouse agent John Starz, who only suffered a bullet to his kneecap during his fight with Garcia in the visitation unit.

Denise Christopher watches the video carefully. She looks to her right at Emma Whitmore whose arms are crossed, displeased with what she’s seen on this video.

“So, what do you want me to do?” Denise asks.

“Keep a close eye on Logan. He’s a loose cannon. Lucy’s diary says that he fell in love with her. It’s best he starts to believe that she’s dead sooner rather than later. And if he doesn’t, well… Rittenhouse has ways to take care of those who no longer serve our purpose, so to speak.” Emma smiles.

Denise nods her head. She knows how difficult Wyatt can be and how much he likes giving the middle finger to authority. He rarely ever listened to her or Lucy before the explosion at Mason Industries, back when he was assigned to chase after and kill Garcia Flynn. A mission which he failed miserably and Rittenhouse was not impressed.

“In the meantime, I’m assigning guards to go back with you to the bunker. They’ll help ensure that Logan won’t do anything too rash, and they’ll provide a false sense of security to everyone else. Make them think they’re there to protect them from Rittenhouse.”

“What about Flynn?” Denise asks.

“He shouldn’t pose an immediate threat to us without a time machine. We’re in the process of moving to our New York headquarters in case Lucy can give him any information that can lead him to us here.”

“And what are we going to do about Lucy?” Denise asks. “I know we talked about how we can eliminate her as well, end the family legacies from ruling Rittenhouse, but… is she even a threat if she doesn’t want to be with us?”

“The orders are to kill her. She shouldn’t be a problem until then, not unless she or Flynn find someone who might be able to build them a new time machine. Even if they did, it takes years to construct and more time just to test it. Five years minimum before they can chase after us in time, ten years max. By then…” Emma curls her lips into a smug smile, “… we’ll already rule the world.”

The two women walk together down the empty corridor.

“When will this all be over?” Denise asks.

“Soon. Our sleeper agents will be activated when needed.” Emma stops walking and looks at Denise. “I trust that Rufus will be able to fix the Lifeboat so they’ll try to chase after us. And I’m sure they’ll ask you what you’re going to do to replace Lucy as their historian.”

“I’ll tell them that I’m still using all my resources to find her. Give them hope that they’ll see her again so they won’t want to replace her.”

“Good.”

The drive back to the bunker in San Francisco didn’t take Denise too long, even in late afternoon traffic. She met with the armed guards that Emma had assigned to watch over the bunker and showed them where the exits and entries into the building were. She stepped into the rusty elevator and hit the down button on the control panel. Outside the thick steel door, she hears a grinder hacking away at the door from the other side. She punches in the code on the keypad and the door clanks open. Wyatt and Rufus are standing in front of her.

“Busted.” Rufus says as if he and Wyatt are schoolboys caught skipping class by the principal.

Denise stands in the doorframe looking at them. She’s really not all that surprised that that hothead, Wyatt Logan, would already be trying to break out. She knew that was inevitable once he somewhat recovered from the injuries he sustained in the explosion at Mason Industries six weeks ago.

“Locking the door from outside now? What are we, prisoners?” Wyatt asks, his voice saturated with disrespect for Denise’s authority over him.

“I have trust issues with you, Wyatt, obviously with good reason. My agents are looking for her. They’re using drones, satellites, cell records, every resource we have.” Denise tells him, following Emma’s instructions on how to deal with him and the rest of the team.

“Yeah, what’s the latest? Let me guess. You got nothing.” Wyatt pushes past Denise to get into the elevator with every intention to leave this bunker and go find Lucy. Sure, he’s been a member of Rittenhouse for six years, but he loves Lucy and there’s no way in Hell he’s going to give up on her easily. He already lost Jessica for reasons beyond his control in this damn organization. He’s not going to lose Lucy too, not if he can do something about it. And he doesn’t give one shit if Denise goes back to the head honchos of Rittenhouse and tells them that he’s not playing by their rules.

“The only thing you do by leaving is give what’s left of Rittenhouse another opportunity to kill you.” Denise says as she turns to face him, giving him a look almost as a warning that Rittenhouse is keeping a close watch on him and he better be careful.

“Yeah, well, I’ll take my chances. After everything we did, there can’t be that many of them.” He does not give a fuck if Rittenhouse disapproves of him.

“They blew up Mason Industries. We have no idea how powerful they still are. I’m already down one asset.”

Wyatt steps toward Denise. “That’s what you think Lucy is? An asset?”

“Master Sergeant Logan, you are not leaving this bunker.”

“Court-martial me.” He says, stepping back inside the elevator.

“I stationed two armed guards upstairs to keep the bad guys out, and keep you guys in.”

“You see, Rufus?” Wyatt looks at Rufus, dragging him into this. “We really are prisoners in this Hell hole.”

“It’s government-owned. It’s off the grid. And it was available on extremely short notice.” Denise explains.

“Gee, wonder why.” Wyatt retorts as he looks at the elevator control panel, knowing damn well that Rittenhouse has used this facility years before as one of their headquarters.

“The only way you’re leaving this bunker is in that time machine.” Denise looks down the hallway at the Lifeboat. She’s proud of her part in helping Rittenhouse secure both time machines. She’s proud that they have entrusted her to keep an eye on this team. No one here has any idea that they are actually being held captive by Rittenhouse.

“Screw you.” Wyatt angrily walks past Denise.

Rufus stands beside Denise, wanting to soothe over the tension that Wyatt bore down on her shoulders. Everyone in this bunker has felt Wyatt’s wrath this past week since they moved in.

“It does suck down here.” He says, leaning down to speak to her.

“How soon before the Lifeboat’s fixed?” Denise asks, needing that information so she can relay it to Emma. To keep up appearances, Denise has been instructed to let them fix the Lifeboat and chase Rittenhouse through time. The sleeper agents are already in place, even if this team manages to find them, they won’t be able to stop the influence all the sleepers will have attained in each time period they’ve been placed. Rittenhouse will be unstoppable.

“We’re close. I was just about to run a test.” Rufus answers her question.

Denise watches as Rufus makes his way to the Lifeboat. She smiles, knowing that everyone in this bunker trusts her implicitly. She’s become a mother figure to them. They come to her when they need to talk or if they need advice. Her phone vibrates in her pocket. She checks it and sees that it’s a call from a restricted number.

“Agent Christopher.” She answers, expecting to hear Emma Whitmore’s voice on the other end.

“Denise… it’s Lucy. I need your help.”

Denise’s lips curl into a smile. She expected Lucy to reach out to her after she saw the prison surveillance video earlier. And if she can bring in Lucy Preston and Garcia Flynn, well… that can only help build her status in the hierarchy of Rittenhouse once Emma figures out a way to destroy their leadership’s obsession with blood legacies.

“Lucy?” Denise lowers her voice and sounds relieved to hear from her. “Where are you?”

“I’m with Flynn, I… we… escaped. We had to ditch the car we were in and we’re holed up in a hotel in…” Denise hears Lucy cover the phone and ask Garcia where they are. “… Tonopah, Nevada.”

“Nevada?”

“We went east to throw authorities off. It’s been a long day.” Lucy pauses and Denise hears Garcia say something in the background, she can’t make it out. “Is there anyone you can send to pick us up? I know it’s out of the way, but we had to get out of the area.”

“I can gather a couple agents to bring you in.” She pauses and watches Rufus and Jiya work on the Lifeboat. “Did you say you’re with Garcia Flynn? The news is reporting that he escaped prison this morning… they’re saying an Iranian terror group orchestrated the whole thing.”

“Yes, I’m with him and we’re working on a plan to stop Rittenhouse. I know arrests were made, but… my mother kidnapped me, brought me to Rittenhouse, and I can assure you they are rebuilding with every intention to be more powerful than they were before.” Lucy pauses. “We need all the help we can get.”

Denise considers whether or not to tell Lucy that Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya are still alive. She decides not to. It might be best to keep them separated, to not bring Lucy and Flynn back to the bunker. Emma was very adamant about how dangerous Garcia Flynn could be if he were allowed to team up with Lucy to fight them. That’s one of the main reasons why Rittenhouse wanted him executed long before the state’s lethal injection.

“Sit tight and I’ll get my agents to you as soon as I can. What’s the address of the hotel you two are at?”

“It’s the Best Western. It’s a small town so it’s easy to find.” Lucy pauses and Denise can hear her cover the mouthpiece of the phone as she speaks to Garcia. “It’s on Main Street. It took us a little over eight hours to get here. Should we expect someone here late tonight, or tomorrow morning?”

“Tonight. I’ll see if I can fly someone in. I’ll figure out the closest airport to Tonopah and get you guys back here before sunrise.” Denise takes a pen and paper and jots down the name of the town Lucy and Garcia are in, she circles the words Best Western and Main Street. Denise sits down in a chair in front of a computer monitor and speaks quietly. “Are you ok, Lucy? I don’t exactly trust you alone with Flynn.”

Lucy turns around and looks at Garcia. He’s standing close enough to her that he can hear most of what is being said by Denise on the other end of the conversation.

“I trust him, Denise.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the phone. Lucy wrinkles her brow and Garcia places his hand on her shoulder to assure her that what she’s told Denise is the truth.

“Just… be safe, Lucy. I’ll send a couple of my agents from Homeland to pick you up with express orders not to hand Flynn over to prison authorities.”

“Thank you.” Lucy says as she hangs up the public pay phone. She turns to Garcia. She’s shaking her head.

“What is it, Lucy?” Garcia asks, concerned by her body language.

“Something’s not right. She didn’t… sound like herself…” She looks Garcia in the eyes. “You said that she told you that she thought I was dead, well… she didn’t act like hearing from me was any kind of surprise, as if she already knew I was alive.” She shakes her head.

“What are you saying? That you think she’s Rittenhouse?” He steps closer to Lucy and leans down so they can speak with discretion. He adjusts his hold on Lucy’s overnight bag on his shoulder. Lucy nods her head.

“I don’t want to think that of her, but… Rittenhouse has had the Mothership for weeks, who knows what they’ve been doing on their trips. The first trip we took to the Hindenburg, I came back and my mother wasn’t dying, she was alive and well, my sister erased. It doesn’t take much to change the outcome of someone’s life. What if… what if Emma went back and recruited Denise? What if in this timeline, she’s been Rittenhouse all along?”

Garcia nods his head. He can’t argue with her. He thought the same thing of Lucy last night. They are silent for a moment as they consider the truth that in the blink of an eye everything they remember could be forgotten. If Rittenhouse changed their history, could they disappear from where they stand right now and end up somewhere else? They don’t know.

“So, what do we do?” He asks.

“We keep working on our plan to take down Rittenhouse, lay low. Maybe reach out to someone you trust for help.” Lucy touches his arm and they walk away from the pay phone. “And we need to get the Hell out of Tonopah.”

They search the parking lot of the hotel and find a car that has been left unlocked. This is the fifth car they’ve stolen today. Lucy gets in the driver’s seat and looks around for a key as Garcia sits next to her in shotgun. He places Lucy’s bag in the backseat of the car. He watches as she lowers the sun visor looking for the key, then as she feels underneath her seat. Finally, she lifts the lid on the armrest to check inside.

Nothing.

“Here, I can hotwire it for you.” He offers, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a red Swiss army knife he found in the glove compartment of the Rittenhouse agent’s car this morning.  He leans over and dismantles the steering column. He uses the knife to strip the insulation from the battery wires and the starter wire. He sparks them together and the engine starts.

He winks at Lucy as he leans back in his seat. The look on her face indicates that she’s impressed. She reaches over and puts on her seatbelt and shifts the car into drive, but she doesn’t take her foot off the brakes. Garcia waits, wondering why she’s not driving away yet. He looks at her.

“Why aren’t you…” He points toward the road.

“Waiting for you to put on your seatbelt.” Lucy answers his unfinished question.

He lets out a chuckle remembering how she was trying to lecture him this morning about not wearing his seatbelt as they escaped the prison. He does as he’s told. Satisfied, Lucy backs up the car and they drive out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

“Where to?” She asks.

“Houston.”

“Texas?” Lucy raises her brow. “That’s a long drive. Three days at least.”

“You have something else better to do?”

Lucy gives him a look and turns her attention back to the road ahead of her and merges onto US-95 south, heading toward Las Vegas.

“We could stop in Vegas.” He suggests. “Try to win some money… steal another car… it might be easier for us to move around if we-“ He stops himself, not sure if he should say what’s on his mind. But since she started this, he figures he might as well. “They have drive thru chapels in Vegas, don’t they?”

Lucy smiles, shaking her head at him.

In her overnight bag she has the paperwork proving that they are Mr. and Mrs. Garcia Flynn, but that’s only on paper. They haven’t yet defined their relationship and ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’ seems too trivial a term for how much they care for one another. The past two days in that prison visitation unit she discovered just how much Garcia cares about her, and just how much she cares about him.

But are they dating? Even if they wanted to go out together, she’s not sure if it’s safe to be seen in public when Rittenhouse could be anywhere. Dating while living on the run certainly is not an ideal. If they want to pursue their feelings, they’ll have to come up with a different way to do it.

And here he is joking about – or is he serious? – actually, legally getting married to each other. She can see the benefit that could have if they’re going to live life on the run, but it’s much too soon for either of them to be considering a serious commitment to each other. Actually, the very fact that they escaped their imprisonments, together, speaks volumes about how committed they are to each other and to their mission to destroy Rittenhouse.

They only have each other.

But to get married before they define their relationship as it is now?

No.

She’s never been that spontaneous. With her relationships she likes to take her time. Figure out how she really feels, get to know the other person well, and then once she knows what she wants, that’s when she could see herself getting married.

“Lucy. You take everything so seriously. I’m just joking.” He laughs. “Well… for now, anyway.” He winks at her which brings a smile to her face.

“So, why Texas?” Lucy asks to change the topic. They have plenty of time ahead of them to figure out their relationship. She’s sure that she wants to be with him, and she thinks that he feels the same way. But that discussion can wait for another day.

“My mother lives in Houston. I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately and want to check in to make sure she’s all right. Plus, she worked with Lockman Aerospace for a time back in the sixties, back when they built the lunar module for NASA.” He looks at Lucy. “Of course, I think you already knew that.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “She moved on, and worked for the military to help design and build spy satellites, drones and other technology both here in the States and overseas.

“She must be a remarkable woman.”

Garcia smiles. “She is… and I was thinking that if we needed another time machine, maybe she might have ideas how to build one. She has a background in physics as well.” He explains. “But before we try to recruit her… we need to figure out if she would turn us in.”

“She’s your mother... I’m sure she would know better than anyone what kind of person you are. That you didn’t do the things you were accused of doing.” Lucy looks at him and places her hand on his knee. “She knows you’re not a murderer, Garcia.”

He nods his head and places his hand on top of Lucy’s, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Regardless, we need to be careful. We’ll just have to find a way to…” He trails off in thought, and just as quickly comes back with an idea. “If you don’t mind impersonating a federal agent to get information from her about-”

“And how am I supposed to get a federal ID?”

“I know a guy in San Marcos, owes me a favor.”

“You do know impersonating a federal agent is a felony, right?” She asks.

He nods his head.

He knows.

They sit in silence as they drive away with the setting sun behind them. Neither one of them dares to say it out loud, but they are scared for what the future holds. They don’t have a journal to guide them, they don’t have any means to chase Rittenhouse through time, and even if they did, any new time machine wouldn’t be hooked up to the Mothership’s mainframe to tell them where they’ve gone.

Lucy knows that all they have is what he has memorized of the journal. Even though neither has said it aloud, they know that if they manage to steal the Mothership from Rittenhouse, they will approach destroying them in exactly the same manner that Garcia did before his arrest. They would hunt Rittenhouse down through time. Only knowing if they succeeded upon their return to the present.

Lucy finds it ironic that she is willing to tear through history with this man at her side, to burn it down in order to destroy Rittenhouse, and to save his family and her sister. When before she had been so focused on preserving history.

_The things we all do for love._

She takes her eyes off the road and looks at Garcia. When she was teamed with Wyatt and Rufus, she feared what came next. What era in time they would have to go back to chase after Garcia? Who they needed to save in history? But sitting here now, driving off towards a future unknown… Lucy feels safe, unafraid.

She knows that not everything has been resolved between them, but she trusts Garcia. She trusts him more than anyone she’s ever trusted in her life. They are on the same page. They want the same things. The connection they have is deeper than anything she’s ever felt. Is this fate? Destiny? Was it preordained that she and Garcia would be together? She’s always believed in fate, but maybe Amy was right and you can make your own future

Lucy looks at Garcia and wonders what inner dialog is running through his mind. She imagines that he’s nervous about his mom. He looks deep in thought. It’s unusual to see him… doubtful of himself.

“Everything is going to be ok.” She tells him, wanting to soothe his worries away.

“I hope you’re right, Lucy.” He sighs. “Until we have a time machine…” He shakes his head. “… we’ll always doubt our own memories. Doubt who we are each morning we wake up. It’s not like forcing ourselves to stay awake could stop them from overwriting our memories, or change who we are.”

Lucy nods her head slowly. She can’t argue with him.

“But you know what?”

Garcia looks at her, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope that she’ll say something, anything to make their current situation better.

“As long as we wake up next to each other, then we’ll know that we’re still a team, that we’re still who we are right now. That they haven’t changed us.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“No. I am right. Rittenhouse doesn’t want us working together. They know from my journal that you and I can stop them, and destroy them. If they change who we are then…” She wets her lips and takes her eyes off the road to look at him again. “If they change us, Garcia… we won’t be together. We’d be apart.”

“If they changed us, Lucy…” He hates to be the bringer of bad news. “Then we would never know that we had this conversation. We wouldn’t remember our time in that visitation unit.”

Lucy looks away, blinking tears from her eyes. She knows he’s right.

“I know.” Is all she can say. “I guess I was just trying to keep our spirits up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I appreciate that you don’t try to sugar-coat things. You speak the truth.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “I can’t wait to meet your mother. I saw her employee file when we followed you to 1969.” Lucy changes the subject. “I think she’ll do whatever she can to help us”

Garcia nods his head but says nothing in return. He worries about seeing his mother. Would she help them? Could she help them? Would she recognize him from 1969? If she does that might actually help their case when they ask her to help them build a time machine. He wonders what she’ll think of Lucy.

He smiles as he looks out the window at the passing scenery.

When he was younger, he didn’t bring many girls home to meet his family. In fact, he really didn’t date at all. Most of the girls his mother met she disapproved of, not thinking they were worthy enough to be with her son… until she met Lorena. His mother knew before he did that the two of them would get married. She teased him about it for a couple years before he realized he wanted to spend his life with her.

His heart aches thinking about Lorena. His heart belongs to Lucy now, but he will always love Lorena. In many ways, Lucy reminds him of Lorena. Challenges him, likes the same kind of music and books. Lucy has a great singing voice, just as Lorena did. She can’t cook, and her sandwiches – though innovative – leave much to be desired. In bed, Lucy curls into him much in the same way that Lorena used to do.

When he and Lorena were first wed, he told her that if he were to die in war or on a mission, that he would want her to have a happy life. That he would want her to love again, to marry a good man, and have many children. Lorena told him that if she ever died that she wanted the same for him.

Garcia looks at Lucy. She yawns and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. He looks at the clock. It’s just past seven o’clock. Lucy’s been driving for three hours straight.

“Pull over. I’ll take over until we find a hotel for the night.” He says. “But don’t stop the engine, keep it running.”

Lucy turns on the blinker, pulls over and stops the car. She gets out and makes her way around to the passenger side door. Garcia gets out and places his hands on her shoulders. He leans down and kisses the top of her head.

“No matter what happens, we still have each other.” He tells her “And I like to think that even if Rittenhouse goes back and alters our past that somehow you and I still end up together, fighting them.”

“Even if they turned me into some evil Rittenhouse princess?” She asks with a yawn.

“Even if they made you an evil princess.” He smiles at her and lets his hands slide down her arms as she passes him. He steps aside, holding the car door open for her and shuts it once she’s seated. He goes around to the other side and gets in, fastens his seatbelt and merges back onto the road. He looks at Lucy. He makes a silent promise to her and to himself that he will never let anything bad happen to her again. That he will fight for her, protect her, no matter what gets thrown their way. And one day, well… one day, if she feels the same way for him, he will tell her he loves her. But for now, they are just starting to define what they are to one another.

He’s hungry, she’s tired, and all he wants to do right now is find a decent hotel for them to stay at tonight. He decides that he’ll drive tomorrow as much as Lucy will let him. They don’t know if Agent Christopher really is Rittenhouse, but if she is then they can’t count out the possibility that she could track them somehow. He’s experienced in defensive driving and if needed he can pull off maneuvers to try to escape being trailed.

Lucy leans forward and turns on the radio. It hisses with static as she searches for a channel to listen to.

 _I’ve loved and lost again_  
_Oh, what a crazy world we’re livin’ in_  
_True love has no chance to win_  
_I’ve loved and lost again_

Patsy Cline… Garcia smiles, she’s one of his favorites.

 _I ask you what chance have I_  
_When each love I meet just makes me cry_  
_He loves awhile then says goodbye_  
_I’ve loved and lost again_

Lucy sits back in her seat and closes her eyes, resting her head on the window. She dozes off a few songs later and Garcia turns off the radio, listening only to the sound of the road. An hour later the sun has set and he’s pulling up to a hotel just outside Las Vegas, Nevada. He puts the car into park and stops the engine. He leans over and opens the glove compartment, there’s a wallet inside. He takes it and finds some cash and credit cards.

“Sorry, Richard Harper…” He says quietly to himself reading the name on the credit card. He hopes that he’s not asked for an ID, if so he could pay with the cash, but he prefers not to. He reaches over and gently nudges Lucy.

“Hm?” She moans.

“I found a hotel, come on.”

Lucy sits up and runs her hand through her hair. She reaches back and grabs her overnight bag from the back seat and follows Garcia into the hotel lobby. Lucy leans on his shoulder as he speaks with the front desk employee and gets them a room for the night, and asks if they serve dinner. They don’t, but there are plenty of restaurants nearby they can go to or order delivery.

He takes her overnight bag from her and offers his arm to her as they make their way to the elevator. They wait in silence as a group of rowdy Spring Breakers exits the elevator.

Their room is on the third floor, and looks out from a distance on the Vegas Strip. There are two beds, but he doesn’t think they’ll need more than one by the way Lucy has her arm wrapped around his body as they enter the room. She wants to be close to him and he wants to be close to her.

He orders pizza delivery thanks to Richard Harper as Lucy showers. She emerges from the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel and wearing only her burgundy robe. Garcia sees her and pushes a chair out with his foot for her to sit in. He’s surprised when she takes a slice of pizza and sits cross-legged on the bed instead, picking up the remote control and turning on the TV.

“… and Lucy Preston. According to authorities, they are suspected of traveling east. If you have any information on their whereabouts, please contact your local law enforcement agency. Do not approach them as they are considered armed and dangerous.”

“Looks like we made the news.” Lucy says as she bites into her pizza. She turns down the volume on the TV. “Hey! I think this place has Netflix.”

Garcia groans, standing up to join her on the bed, pizza in hand.

“Please no, we don’t need to watch Netflix.”

“I know you said you don’t like TV and movies, and there’s something very wrong with you, but before I was kidnapped, I finally started watching _Stranger Things_ and I kind of want to finish season one before season two comes out.”

He isn’t going to deny her this so he doesn’t argue. As Lucy settles in under the blankets of the bed, he goes to the bathroom to get washed up for the night. None of this should feel as comfortable or as natural as it does. It wasn’t too long ago that he and Lucy were on opposite sides of this fight, and now it’s looking like he’ll be spending a second night in bed with her. He looks around the bathroom, there’s no complimentary razor so he’ll go another day without shaving. Tomorrow, he’ll hit up a pharmacy and pick up some essentials.

Lucy is asleep when he leaves the bathroom. He’s showered and wearing just a towel around his waist. He turns off the TV and moves the remote control from the bed to the nightstand. Lucy rolls onto her side and tucks her hand underneath her chin. He turns off the light and fumbles around in the dark until his eyes adjust. He changes into a pair of boxer shorts and hesitates to crawl into bed next to her. They didn’t discuss whether or not they would sleep next to each other and he doesn’t want to assume that she wants to wake up next to him. So, he crawls into the other bed.

“Garcia…?” Lucy whispers.

He raises his brow. Has she been awake this whole time?

“Garcia…?

He hears her sit up in bed. He opens his eyes and sees her looking at him.

“Garcia… I… could you… do you, I mean… you don’t have to, but…” Lucy sounds vulnerable, unsure if he wants what she wants.

Garcia pulls the covers from his body and gets out of bed, joining her. He’s afraid to touch her, but she’s turned to face him and her hand touches his waist as he settles next to her.

“It’s just… I feel safe with you.” She quietly explains.

He never expected her to feel safe with him so soon. He’s touched. He wants her to know how much her trust in him makes him feel, especially after their volatile history together. He lies on his side to face her, draping his arm over her waist as she rests her hands on his bare chest.

“You know you’re the one good thing in my life, Lucy.” He whispers. His tone is serious, and heartfelt. “The one thing that I couldn’t hate after I lost my family.” He licks his lower lip as she looks up at him and she gently rubs her nose against his. The gesture breaks his heart. He never thought that he would feel this way again. Never believed that he deserved someone who cared for him in the way that Lucy seems to. “I never wanted to hurt you, Lucy. I want you to know that, and I’m sorry for when I did.”

“I know.” She touches his face, caressing her thumb over his lips. “And… I’m sorry if I ever said or did anything that hurt you too.” She curls up next to him, her hands tucked against his chest and her leg draped over his own.

He licks his lip and lowers his voice to a whisper. “And no matter how bad things get, or how long this takes… we’re in this together. You and I, Lucy.” He kisses her forehead and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We’ll never get the people back that we love, will we?” She sniffles.

“Only if we give up hope.” He touches her chin and tilts her head to look at him. There are tears in her eyes. “I know somehow, some way, we’ll save the people we love.”


	4. The Rittenhouse Squad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are high after a rush of adrenaline this morning in Nevada.

Her voice is an echo, “but what if the monsters come when I’m sleeping?”

Iris sits, wrapped in her mother’s arms in bed. Looking up at her father as he sits down next to her. Each time Garcia has this dream it is shorter. It used to begin with he and Lorena sitting downstairs on the couch, staring at the twinkling lights of their Christmas tree. Then it began with him holding Iris’s hand as she led him down the hallway toward her bedroom, telling him she heard a monster in her closet, handing him her blue water gun. It’s as if the memory of his girls is trying to escape. He always sees Iris crystal clear, but Lorena’s face has become more and more unclear to him as if she were a ghost.

“Well, then, I’ll protect you, ok? I’ll always protect you.”

His broken promise fades as the dream darkens and he hears the sound of two gunshots echo into the night.

Garcia opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling as the dim light of the rising sun begins to crack through the curtains of the hotel room. He feels Lucy’s arm draped over his bare chest. Her hand rests over his heart and her head is tucked beneath his arm.

The silence in the room rings in his ears.

He looks down at her. The burgundy robe she’s wearing has fallen open and her bare breast is pressed against his torso. He moves carefully so not to wake her, and pulls the robe to cover her body. She moves in her sleep, lifting her leg so that it covers his thigh. He can feel that she’s not wearing any panties as he feels her center press against him. He closes his eyes and tells himself he should get up before this becomes awkward.

He pulls the blanket over her as he gets out of bed, being careful not to wake her as he tucks her in.

He changes into his black t-shirt and jeans from yesterday and sits down at the table to put on his shoes and socks. After brushing his teeth and splashing his face with water in the bathroom, he stares at himself in the mirror. The five o’clock shadow on his face is getting thicker and he needs to go out and pick up toiletries for himself.

He steps out of the bathroom and looks at Lucy.

She’s pulled his pillow up against her.

She’s still asleep.

He knows that it would be smart to wake her up and have her go with him to the pharmacy. He knows it’s not smart to leave her here alone, even if for only under an hour. But he is positive that they’ve done all that they can to ensure that Rittenhouse hasn’t tracked them here. So, he takes the card key and leaves the hotel without her.

Lucy wakes up with her face buried in Garcia’s pillow.

She lifts her head and looks for him but he’s not next to her. Her heart jumps out of her chest and she sits up. She looks around and sees that there’s two cups of McDonalds coffee on the table next to a couple of bananas, a small carton of almond milk, an assortment pack of Kellog’s mini cereal boxes, and a pack of plastic bowls and spoons.

The shower is running in the bathroom.

She lies back down in bed and smiles when she hears him humming, _They Can’t Take That Away From Me_ from the 1937 Ginger Rogers and Fred Astair film, _Shall We Dance_.

“The way you wear your hat… the way you sip your tea… the memory of all that. No, no… they can’t take that away from me.” He sings, not knowing that she’s awake and can hear that he does indeed have a good singing voice, contrary to his claim a couple days ago.

Lucy closes her eyes as she hears him turn off the shower and clear his throat. She keeps her eyes closed as he wanders into the room. Is he wearing a towel around his waist or does he prefer to walk in the nude? And as tempting as it is to open her eyes, there’s no way she wants him to catch her checking him out either way. Something tells her that he wouldn’t mind. That he’d attempt to flirt with her, and as amusing and charming as that could be… she keeps her eyes closed.

Lucy raises her brow when she hears what can only be described as a stumble and him mutter “ow” under his breath. She feels movement on the foot of the bed and she just barely opens her eyes to see what’s going on. Garcia is steadying himself with one hand on the end of the bed. She watches as he pushes himself back up, standing tall. She quickly closes her eyes as he begins to turn his head toward her. She doesn’t want him to know that she’s awake.

Garcia looks at Lucy, he thought he saw signs of life, but he was wrong. He zips up his jeans and rubs a towel through his still damp hair. He picks up the almond milk and pours a little bit into his McDonalds coffee cup before walking across the room and placing the carton in the mini-fridge.

He sits down at the table and looks out the window. It’s an overcast morning and when he was out before there had been a little drizzle. He actually prefers driving in this weather as bright and sunny days make it harder for him to stay focused on the road for long periods of time. He leans down and puts on his shoes, tying them. Then he looks at Lucy as she squeezes his pillow closer to her body.

She’s still asleep.

He takes another sip from his coffee cup and figures that he might as well wake her up. It’s going on nine o’clock and they need to get back on the road now that Monday morning traffic has thinned out.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and watches her sleep. Her robe has fallen down over her shoulder, below her elbow. He reaches out and is about to cover her again when he sees the bruise he left on her arm when he first grabbed her when she arrived at the prison visitation unit.

Good God, he treated her like shit that first day.

He hates himself for touching her in a way that has left marks on her body. First, this bruise on her arm… then he gently touches the back of her hand… then the bruise on the back of her hand where he slammed it against the headboard to force her to drop the knife… and he looks at her other hand and lowers his head. She isn’t wearing a gauze bandage and her hand has a large scab along her life line. He’s careful when he holds her hand in his and examines the wound. After she gets dressed for the day, he’ll make sure that she uses an antibiotic cream and bandages it again.

Lucy keeps her eyes closed but it’s getting harder for her not to cry.  She feels his gentle touch and knows that this poor man feels guilty for her injuries. She feels his fingertips gently touching the palm of her hand. She felt the way that he touched the bruise on the back of her hand, and now she feels him covering her arm and shoulder with her robe, the back of his fingers gently caressing the bruise he left on her arm. She wants to keep pretending she’s asleep and roll over onto her other side, but if she did, she would break down and cry and he would know that she has been awake this whole time.

“Lucy…”

She feels his thumb caress her cheekbone as his fingers rest behind her ear. She nuzzles her face into the palm of his hand and slowly opens her eyes. He’s smiling down at her.

“Good morning.” He says quietly.

“What time is it?” She asks as she sits up, unaware that her robe has opened to him. She runs her hand through her hair and looks at Garcia with confusion as he reaches toward her and closes her robe. Her eyes are wide and she can’t help but smile at his modesty. “Thank you.”

“It’s going on nine o’clock. I went out and picked up some things for our trip and-”

“Hey.” She says, sounding disappointed.

“What?”

“You shaved.”

Garcia runs his hand over his smooth, freshly-shaven face and looks at her. There’s disappointment in her eyes and her lips are pursed in a pout.

“I did.” He says cautiously. “I didn’t know that would be a problem.”

Lucy touches his face, running her hand over his jaw.

“Not a problem, I just… I liked the scruff.”

“I could grow it back if you want… doesn’t take too long.” He smiles.

And if there is ever a moment of slight awkwardness between them it is happening right now.

They both realize that this isn’t the kind of conversation that you have with someone who is just a friend. This conversation is along the lines of one a couple who’s been together for some time might have, or a married couple.

“I uh…” Lucy throws her legs over the side of the bed, sitting next to him now. “I’m gonna go… you know… I’m hungry and umm… cereal sounds good…”

Lucy stands up and walks to the table, but the milk isn’t there.

“Where’d you put the almond milk?” She asks before realizing that her question has given away that she had been awake and knew that he picked up milk and cereal.

She quickly spins around to look at Garcia. And he’s sitting there on the bed, running his fingers across his chin as he smiles up at her. He laughs as he stands up.

“You were awake?” He says as he kisses her on the top of her head.

“No, I um… I woke up. Well… I think I woke up, but I was still very groggy and thought I saw…” Lucy goes to the mini-fridge next to the dresser in the room. She opens it. “I might have been dreaming, or...” She takes out the small carton of almond milk. She holds it up as if saying ‘cheers.’

He says nothing to her which only makes her more self-aware. She stumbles over her own damn feet as she makes her way to the table and sits down. She pretends as if everything is normal and pours Froot Loops and milk into one of the bowls, and starts to eat. She swallows and picks up the cup of coffee he had been drinking from and takes a sip. He wrinkles his brow… Froot Loops and coffee… ok.

“I got the milk for the coffee, Lucy.” He wets his bottom lip. “I was going to suggest you and I go downstairs for the complimentary continental breakfast and we’d take the cereal on the road with us along with some other snacks I picked up at the store.”

“Oh?” Lucy says as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

Garcia takes a seat next to her at the table.

“I also want to make sure the wound on your hand gets cleaned and properly bandaged. You’re lucky it’s not a deep wound.”

Lucy lowers her eyes, the memory of fighting him in bed at the prison rushes to the front of her mind. The way she lunged toward him with no intention to hurt him, the way her voice sounded as she cried out. The way he growled at her, accusing her of being a true member of Rittenhouse. How much it hurt when he slammed her hand against the back of the bed and pressed the cool steel against her neck. The way it felt to feel his full weight pressing against her body. The way he swelled in her hand as she stroked him.

She feels a wave of warmth spread over her body and she looks down into her bowl of cereal to avoid making eye contact with him. Yes, that night she was willing to just fuck him, no strings attached. She wanted to use sex to hurt herself, to convince herself that he meant nothing to her, and that she was worthless, but… she knows now that anything that happens between them would be a game changer. They’re connected to each other on a level she doesn’t understand and after the last two nights, she wants to understand what it means. What she means to him, and what he means to her.

_Was it pre-ordained to bring Flynn and I together, I'll never know._

She finishes the last spoonfuls of her cereal and sets the bowl down. She sits forward in her chair, her robe falling off her shoulder. She places her hand on his knee.

“I know I said I’m sorry, but… I still feel awful for what happened the other night… with the knife.” She tells him. “You have no idea what I went through with Rittenhouse.” She says this knowing that she’s opened the door for him to ask her about what happened to her.

“I don’t have to know what happened to know that they scared you enough that you’d actually try to… you know.” He makes a cut-throat motion in front of his neck and smiles to try to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t work.

“Don’t do that.” She tells him, the smile gone from her face. Her actions against him are still too fresh a memory, and though he’s smiling, it only makes her feel worse.

“I’m sorry.” He lowers his eyes and holds her hand. “Were you going to shower this morning or just get dressed and we can hit the road?”

“I showered last night.”

“Then let me bandage this cut on your hand.” He stands up. “I noticed that it looks a little swollen so you might want to remove the ring on your finger in case it’s obstructing blood flow.”

Lucy nods her head and removes the ring. Her mother gave it to her to help her pass off the lie that she was Mrs. Garcia Flynn when she arrived at the prison. It’s a ring that has been in her family for generations. Before it belonged to Carol, it belonged to her mother and her great-grandmother. They each wore it when they married other members of Rittenhouse. Her mom told her that it is made of platinum and that each diamond embedded into the band was put there for each pure blood – royal – Rittenhouse marriage. And that one day she hoped that Lucy would marry another pure blood and would add her own diamond to the family collection.

The ring is priceless.

“We need to wash your hand.” He motions to the bathroom.

Lucy follows him and watches him in the mirror as he tends to her hand. He’s much taller than her when she’s barefoot. He stands close to her, towering over her as he looks down at her hand and washes it with warm water and soap – something she could do on her own, but she finds that letting him take care of her excites her and she hopes that one day she can return the favor. He dabs her hand dry with a towel.

“I know you’ll argue this, but I think we should steal some towels and pillows to take with us.” He says.

Lucy looks up at him, their eyes meet and he smiles.

“I agree. We don’t have much money and there’s no guarantee that we’ll afford another hotel tonight or any other night. I mean, if we’re gonna have to sleep in a car, might as well try to be comfortable.” She tells him as he looks up at her as he wraps gauze around her wound.

“There… all better.” He raises her hand to his lips and kisses her wrist.

He turns and leaves the bathroom. Lucy watches him disappear around the corner and takes a deep breath. Why in the world is she still wondering whether or not she and Garcia will ever end up together? The way he treats her, the way he finds any way possible to touch her. To hold her hand or take care of her, to kiss her anywhere except on the lips. She leaves the bathroom and notices a new black duffle bag has been placed on the foot of the bed.

“Since the cut is swollen, try to keep it elevated as much as possible.” He pauses. “I’ll drive today-”

“I can help, it’s not a problem.”

“It’s ok… let me do what I can to take care of you.” He smiles. “Besides, I don’t mind driving. It helps clear my mind.”

She nods her head and rummages through the duffle bag. Among the things that he’s picked up for their road trip to Texas, he bought several plain white t-shirts, a couple packs of white and black cotton panties and matching boxer briefs, a couple sports bras – she smiles and figures he didn’t know what size bra she wears. Obviously, that information wasn’t in the journal. She digs through and finds a few apples, pears, oranges, a few bars of Hershey’s chocolate bars, a bottle of Midol and a bottle of Ibuprofen, a box of crackers and… Lucy has to stop herself from letting out a chuckle… a box of tampons, a box of pantyliners and pads.

Lucy turns around with the box of tampons in her hand. She wants to say something smart to him about it, but she can’t find the right words. She watches him as he gathers up the four pillows from the beds. It’s not her time of the month right now, but she’s certainly humored – and touched – that he took this into consideration. Her last boyfriend refused to go to the store to even pick up a bottle of Midol and a chocolate bar for her for fuck’s sake.

He turns to face her, seeing the tampon box in her hand. She quickly whirls around and shoves the box back into the duffle bag. She turns around and he’s walking toward her. She blushes.

“Thanks for the um… the uh… you didn’t have to… you know… buy the…” She stutters.

“No need to be embarrassed, Lucy. I was married, I picked up that kind of thing for Lorena at the store all the time. It’s not a big deal. And since I’m not familiar with your cycle-”

“Please don’t tell me this is your way of asking when-”

“You don’t need to tell me a thing, Lucy. I mean that. I just… it’s another two or three days, I didn’t want anything to come as a surprise, that’s all.”

Lucy nods her head and takes a pair of socks out of the duffle bag and sets it down next to the white t-shirt and jeans she plans to change into.

“It’s ok.” She tells him, wondering to herself if she should at least inform him when she usually gets her period. She figures she might as well since that door of opportunity is wide open. “I’m not due for another couple of weeks anyway. I’ve been off the pill ever since… ever since Rittenhouse took me.” She looks at him and it humors her to see that this has made him just slightly uncomfortable. She smiles as he runs his hand through his hair. “But thank you for picking it up for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He gathers up complimentary toiletries from the bathroom like toothpaste, and shampoo and conditioner bottles and packs them into the duffle bag. Lucy hands him some dry towels and he packs those as well. He hands Lucy clothes for her to get changed into as she places her mother’s ring back on her finger.

“Could you turn around?” She asks him, holding up the clothes she needs to get changed into.

Garcia nods his head and does as she’s asked. Slinging both his duffle bag and her overnight bag over his shoulder. Lucy looks down at his Levi jeans and sees that he’s tucked the stolen handgun in his back pocket. She raises her eyebrows not in admiration of the gun, but over how nice his ass looks in those jeans. She shakes her head and disrobes.

“There wasn’t much to choose from at the pharmacy, all they had were those white shirts.” He says.

Lucy smiles to herself.

Things with Garcia have been headed in a direction she wouldn’t object to. They’ve shared a bed two nights in a row now, and the man seems to try to kiss her on the top of her head as much as he can to comfort her so… completely naked, she steps toward him and drapes her robe over his shoulder, allowing her hand to slowly caress his back as she steps away to slip on white panties and a matching sports bra. He clears his throat and she smiles, pleased with herself. She’s fairly certain that she placed the intended mental image in his mind.

“I uh… I thought about picking up some touristy shirts that said Viva Las Vegas, but decided against that so we don’t stand out whenever we have to stop to steal a new car.” He balls up her robe and places it in her overnight bag.

BAM!

The sound of a gunshot goes off, hitting the handle of their hotel room door.

BAM! BAM!

Garcia spins around and grabs Lucy – who is wearing only a white sports bra and panties – and shoves her behind him. He reaches around for his gun as Lucy takes the bags off his shoulder. The door of their hotel room is kicked open and two men enter, firing several rounds at them. Lucy hangs onto Garcia at his waist, pressing her head against his back as he fires off two shots.

“LUCY!” He shouts at her, glancing back at her for a split second before the two men shoot at them again.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Garcia grunts as his shoulder is grazed by one of their bullets. He places his free arm behind him to keep a hold on Lucy. His hand holds her firmly on her lower back, his fingers digging into her skin. She wants to ask him what she needs to do to help him get them out of here, but she’s too scared to say anything.

BAM! BAM! Garcia returns fire.

All Lucy can think about is how she and Garcia are cornered in this hotel room. They’re on the third floor. There’s no fire escape outside the window. And unless Garcia can disarm or kill these men-

Suddenly, Garcia spins around to face her and pushes her down on the floor next to the bed furthest from the door.

“Stay down!”

Lucy closes her eyes and listens as the men exchange rounds of bullets. She doesn’t know what is going on, only that it is loud and whoever these men are – Rittenhouse? – that this is going to alert someone to call the cops, and that is exactly what they don’t need. She hears the men shouting at each other to quick reload, to take out Garcia and… “kill the girl.” Another gunshot rings out and she hears a loud thud as a body hits the floor.

“LUCY!” Garcia calls out for her.

She lifts her head out from behind the side of the bed just as Garcia throws a punch at the other man, dropping him like a fly. She sees that the first man is on the ground, holding his bleeding kneecap. She recognizes him from Rittenhouse headquarters. She thinks his name is Michael, but she’s not sure.

The other man is on the ground trying to recover his senses after being punched hard by Garcia. She stands up, not caring that she’s not properly dressed. She rushes to Garcia’s side. Blood is trickling down his arm and dripping from his elbow onto the floor. She touches his arm as he kicks the gun out of the hand of the man with the bleeding kneecap.

He doesn’t look at Lucy. He keeps his eyes on the men. Anger courses through his veins. There is no doubt in his mind that these men are Rittenhouse and that they somehow tracked them here. He suspects they’ve implanted GPS technology in her without her knowledge, a violation of her body. He wants to tie these motherfuckers up and interrogate them, find out how they found them, beat them to a pulp if he finds out that Rittenhouse laid one painful hand on her body.

He feels Lucy’s fingers weave between his own as she takes his hand in hers.

“We have to go.” Her voice is urgent.

They hear the sound of police sirens closing in on the hotel.

If they don’t leave now, they’ll have to deal with the police.

“We need to interrogate them.” He says, not taking his eyes off either man.

Garcia’s voice is eerily calm and that sends a shiver up Lucy’s spine.

He still hasn’t looked at her.

She gently tugs on his hand to try to get him to move toward the open door. She sees the conflict in his features. His shoulders and neck are tense. His jaw is tight. His eyes burn into the two men he’s left wounded on the floor of the hotel room. She knows that if he kills them that there would be two less members of Rittenhouse in the world for them to worry about. And a part of her wouldn’t blame him if he shot them both point blank in the head on the way out of this room. But the other part of her remembers that he told her that he doesn’t like killing. That he doesn’t kill unless he has to. He’s disarmed them both, and they no longer pose an immediate threat to them.

“Garcia…” She says his name again.

His head twitches to the side as if her voice is waking him from his worst innermost thoughts. He swallows hard and lowers his weapon to his side, removing his finger from the trigger. Lucy lets go of his hand and bends down to pick up the handgun he kicked across the room.

Garcia watches her as she stands up straight with the gun in her hand. He’s only ever seen her handle a gun once when she pointed one at him after he assassinated President Lincoln and attempted to assassinate Rittenhouse member, General Grant in 1865. Back then he knew that if she could bring herself to pull the trigger that she wouldn’t hit him. But now… with her standing there in white cotton panties and a sports bra he can see that she’s quite capable of handling a weapon. He watches as she presses the button on the hand grip to check the magazine clip. She looks annoyed as she slams the palm of her hand on the magazine until it clicks, locking itself back in place. He licks his bottom lip.

“How many rounds?” He asks.

“Just one.”

“I have six.” He hurries to her side and motions to her to follow him to the door.

He leans back against the wall next to the open door and braces his arm across Lucy, pressing her against the wall next to him. His arm is firm on her bare abdomen. His wounded shoulder presses against her breast. He looks at her, seeing her struggling with their two bags on her shoulder. He checks the hallway to see if it’s safe for them to leave. There’s no one.

“Give me the duffle bag. I can carry that for you.”

Lucy isn’t about to argue with him that she feels safer if he’s one-hundred percent hands-free in case he needs to use his gun. She hands him the larger duffle bag, trusting that Garcia knows what he’s doing.

“We’ll take the stairs, keeps us out of the lobby.”

Lucy nods her head. Her heart is racing.

This really is not the life she wants to be living.

Rittenhouse gave her no choice.

Garcia pokes his head out to check the hallway once more.

“Clear.” He says.

Lucy holds onto his black t-shirt as they make their way to the stairwell. He opens the door and places his finger to his lips to let Lucy know to remain silent. He listens intently and decides it’s safe to proceed.

He wraps his arm around her waist to keep her close to him as they make their way down the stairs. Lucy trusts him completely so she doesn’t bother to watch where she is stepping. He unintentionally lifts her off her feet several times as they quickly descend floor-by-floor.

Lucy keeps watch behind them as he focuses ahead. Both of them are ready to protect the other with their life. Once they hit ground level, they are faced with a door that leads out to the hotel lobby and an “Emergency Exit Only” to the back parking lot. Garcia looks out the window and quickly pushes Lucy back up against the wall as two police cars speed past the exit door.

“Jebi ga!” He curses in Croatian under his breath. He turns to her, looking her in the eye. “Our car is on this side of the building. Maybe a hundred feet from where we are now, to the right.” He looks down at Lucy. She looks terrified and he hates that she’s making this escape in her underwear. He looks out the window again and drops to his knees. He quickly unzips his duffle bag and digs out a white t-shirt, he throws it up at her. “Put that on.”

Lucy gives him a weak smile, appreciative that he’s wasting time so that she might be more comfortable making a run for it in so little clothing.

“I don’t have pants or shoes.” She tells him, not really keen on the idea of running barefoot through the parking lot.

“Shit.” He says, as he licks his lips in thought. He rummages through the bag and hands her a pair of men’s socks. “It’s the best I can do, Lucy. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up any pants for you, I knew that-”

“It’s better than nothing.” She tells him as she puts on the large socks. “I can get pants on in the car.” She lifts up her overnight bag to remind him that she did pack some clothes for her prison visit.

“There’s broken beer bottles in the parking lot.” He glances back out the emergency door window as another police car drives through the parking lot, its sirens wailing. “Mostly on the right side, closest to the building. Our car is on the lef-” His heart stops when he sees a spot of blood seeping through her shirt. “Were you hit?”

“What?”

He steps toward her, letting down his guard and touches the spot of blood on her breast. Lucy’s heart flutters at his touch. She takes hold of his wrist and removes his hand from her chest.

“That’s your blood, Garcia.” She tells him, gesturing to his still bleeding arm, blood is still dripping onto the floor. “You keep pressing me up against the wall and-”

Outside the lobby door they hear police shouting orders to each other, one voice carries loud enough to let them know that in just a few seconds police will be taking the stairs up to the third floor. Lucy picks up his duffle bag and slings it over her shoulder along with her overnight bag.

“An alarm is going to sound when I open this door. You run ahead of me to the car. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. I promise I’ll be right behind you.”

Lucy nods her head and adjusts the straps of their bags on her shoulder.

He opens the door and the alarm sounds. He pushes her out the door, placing his hand on her back to guide her ahead of him as they run to the car. Through her socks, she feels her feet hit a few pieces of broken glass, it hurts but she doesn’t think that her skin has been punctured.

Shots are fired at them and Lucy screams.

She no longer feels Garcia’s hand on her back, but she does as he told her.

Don’t stop.

Don’t look back.

She keeps running as fast as she can. One of the socks on her feet starts falling lower and lower on her heel and she trips, losing her balance, and falls down. She doesn’t take the time to process pain. She stands up and sees that Garcia is running backward toward her, he fires two rounds high enough to not hit any of the police officers that are chasing them.

Her heart is racing and adrenaline is rushing through her veins.

She dropped the gun she had in her hand.

She looks around and sees it ahead of her and she bends over and picks it up.

Garcia’s hand is on her back now, pushing her with urgency toward their car. It’s only a few strides away. She picks up her pace and gets to the car before him, opening the passenger side door. She throws their bags into the backseat and slams the door shut.

“Dammit!” She exclaims as she rummages through the glove compartment looking for any extra ammo to give to Garcia to reload his weapon.

Nothing is there.

Garcia gets into the driver side and slams the door shut and he takes a deep breath as a stray police bullet punctures the back window. Then suddenly, the passenger side door opens and a man pulls Lucy out of the car, his arm squeezing around her neck. Lucy can barely scream as she claws at the man’s forearms to try to free herself. She stops when she feels the cool steel of a gun press against her temple.

Garcia gets out of the car and BAM! He shoots the man in the forehead.

Lucy falls out of his view and he sees two other men approaching from her side of the car. They’re surrounded. The man who grabbed Lucy was not a cop. He must have been Rittenhouse.

Garcia’s kept count of how many rounds he’s shot.

He only has one more bullet left in his clip.

“LUCY!” He shouts for her. “GET IN THE CAR!”

More shots are fired from both the police who are positioned now behind nearby cars, and the men approaching on Lucy’s side of the car shoot at them as well.

Lucy gets into the car and sinks to the floor of the passenger side, making herself as small as she can.

Garcia sits low as he sparks the wires together and the engine starts. He tears out of the parking spot and hits a parked car behind him. More shots are fired, shattering the back passenger side window. He shifts into drive and aims the vehicle straight at the Rittenhouse agents. The men jump out of the way to avoid being hit.

Garcia tears out of the parking lot at full speed, tires screeching.

He hears sirens.

They’re being followed.

“Lucy… I need your help.” He says calmly, glancing down at Lucy on the floor of the car. She cautiously crawls up into the seat. She’s covered in the blood of the man who grabbed her. Tears are streaming down her face, but she looks at him and nods her head.

“I bought more ammo this morning. It’s all in my duffle bag in the backseat. I need you to get it and load both guns.” He looks at her, she nods her head and leans back, her hands shake as she reaches for his duffle bag.

“We’re being followed.” She says, her voice breaking.

“I know.” He hands her his gun and takes his eyes off the road to look at her, “Are you ok?”

“I… I don’t know.” She tells him as she opens the box of ammo and reloads his gun. “I’m cold and…” She squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t lose control right now. He needs her help. She takes a deep breath. “I’ll keep it together. Don’t worry about me.”

He glances back over his shoulder and sees three police cars gaining on them.

“Trebali smo ukrasti sportski automobil.” He mutters under his breath to himself as he presses his foot hard on the accelerator.

“First get us out of this mess, and then we’ll worry about stealing a sports car.” Lucy says as she sits down and reloads her gun, and then pours a bottle of water over her face to wash off blood and brain matter.

Garcia shoots her a surprised look.

“Razumiješ hrvatski?” He asks if she understands Croatian.

That was not in her journal.

“Samo malo.” She answers. “I didn’t understand everything you said, but recognized sports car and put two and two together.” She uses her white t-shirt to wipe her face dry.

Garcia looks in the rearview mirror with concern.

“Hm. That’s unsettling.”

“What?”

“The police are backing off.”

“Maybe they set up a road block?”

“Maybe…” He turns around in his seat and looks behind them through the shattered back window. “Maybe not…”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asks as she looks back to see what he saw. And her eyes go wide as she sees emerging from behind the police cars, three black Mason Viribus sport cars – the preferred car of Rittenhouse. “Garcia… that’s Rittenhouse, and those cars can reach speeds-”

“Up to two-hundred miles an hour, I know.”

He presses his foot down on the accelerator he knows that the car they’re in right now can barely make it up to 120 miles per hour, and the Rittenhouse squad is gaining on them. Garcia swerves the car as a bullet hits his side-view mirror. One of the Rittenhouse cars is right behind them. Garcia rolls down the window and shoots two rounds back at the car.

He hits nothing.

Garcia growls in frustration. He looks at Lucy knowing that her life is in his hands. She kneels on her seat and braces her arms, taking aim at the car through the back driver side window.

She shoots once.

The bullet shatters the window of their stolen car, and completely misses hitting the Rittenhouse car.

Garcia bites down on his lower lip and looks at the speedometer. They’re going 110 miles an hour right now. He shoots five more rounds out his window and only one bullet hits the windshield of the car, but it doesn’t shatter the glass.

“Rittenhouse installs bullet-proof windows. You’ll want to try to take out the tires.” Lucy tells him as she tucks a strand of her wet hair behind her ear.

Garcia grips onto the steering wheel and tries to turn around in his seat to actually see what the fuck he’s aiming at. He fires three rounds toward the tires of the vehicle as a second Rittenhouse car approaches directly behind them.

Lucy shoots several rounds into the back window of their car. She crawls into the backseat and rummages through her overnight bag. She takes out her burgundy sweatshirt and uses it to protect her hand as she hits at the loose glass, giving herself a better view behind them.

Garcia feels her brace herself against the back of his seat and she fires two rounds out the back window.

“I missed. I’m sorry.” She says, frustration creeping into her voice.

If they had ten seconds to pull over so they could switch seats so he could put all his focus on shooting at Rittenhouse, he’d do it, but reality is that Rittenhouse is on their ass and there’s no time.

“Get back up front.” He tells her.

She crawls back to the front passenger seat and looks at him, shaking her head.

“I don’t have much practice with these things. My mom showed me how to-”

“Take the wheel.” He tells her.

Lucy nods her head and leans over and with one hand takes control of the steering wheel as Garcia sets the car on cruise control. He struggles to maneuver himself to turn around and lean his upper body out the window. Lucy’s eyes are wide as she watches him raise his shoulders toward his ears, holding his gun with both hands. She hears shots fired from the agents chasing them and then Garcia fires off another two rounds.

The car to the side of them loses control and flips over as it flies across the road into a ditch. Lucy’s hand slips on the steering wheel and the car swerves, she sits up taller and keeps her eye on the road.

“I’ve got five more rounds, Lucy!” He yells to her.

He doesn’t have to say anything more. She knows what he needs and she takes her gun and places it next to his foot on the driver’s seat. The car that was behind them has been joined by the third and last Rittenhouse car.

“Fuck!” Garcia yells as he falls back into the driver’s seat and drops his gun on the floor.

He grips the steering wheel with two hands and takes the car out of cruise control just as the third car bumps into their rear. Lucy grabs hold of his arm and hangs onto him tight since neither she, nor he are wearing seatbelts. Their car swerves and Garcia loses control for a few seconds as their car skids across the highway. He turns the wheel against the direction they’re moving to regain control.

Then BANG! Their car is hit on the side by the other Rittenhouse car.

They’re trying to get Garcia and Lucy to crash.

Lucy lets go of his arm and quickly reloads his gun and her own. She crawls into the backseat of the car and rolls down the window. She takes aim at the tires of the car next to them and fires one… two… three times. The third bullet punctures the tire and that car loses control and skids off the road.

“Atta girl!” Garcia says with pride in his voice. “Think you can get that bastard behind us?” He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to look back at her and give her a smile.

Lucy smiles nervously back at him and nods her head, “I can try.”

“I believe in you, sweetheart.” He tells her, refocusing on the road ahead of them.

She tries not to smile, but his words tingle every inch of her skin and give her the confidence to at least try. “It’s a different angle so…” She trails off to position herself in the backseat.

He watches her in the rearview mirror as she kneels on broken glass and leans forward across the back of the car and takes aim at the last Rittenhouse car chasing them. She fires off four rounds and nothing happens, the Rittenhouse agent only gains on them.

“I can’t!” She yells to him.

He nods his head. “It’s ok!” He shouts at her.

He has another idea.

“Lucy, put on your seatbelt.”

She crawls back to the front seat and sits down and does as he says. She looks at him as he uses one hand to put on his own seatbelt.

“What are you going to do?”

“Slam on the brakes after this fucker gets beside us, which is exactly… what he’s doing… right… NOW!”

Lucy hangs onto the “oh shit handle” above the passenger seat door and digs her other hand into Garcia’s thigh, as he slams on the brakes. Their car violently swerves to a stop as the Rittenhouse car continues ahead of them at top speed. The driver of the car realizes what just happened and incorrectly slams on his brakes causing his car to flip over.

Garcia looks at Lucy.

She’s staring at him with her mouth wide open.

They’re both breathing heavy.

He nods his head and puts the car into park, satisfied that they have a few minutes to spare.

He immediately unhooks his seatbelt and turns to Lucy, holding her shoulders. She watches him, unable to speak as his eyes look over her body. He touches her shirt where he thought she had been shot, filling his hand with her breast. He wants to make sure that she really was not shot back at the hotel. She wasn’t. He places his hand on her jaw and turns her head to make sure that the blood he sees on her neck isn’t her own.

Lucy lowers her head and places her hands on his forearms.

“I’m… I’m ok, Garcia…” She assures him. “We need to get out of here before Rittenhouse sends more agents.” He’s listening to her, but he isn’t hearing her. He raises her arm over her head and checks her torso for injury. “Garcia…” She pleads with him and starts crying as he raises her other arm and gently touches her. Tears stream down her face and all she wants is to feel his arms around her, to hear him whisper to her that she’ll be all right, that everything will be all right, but they can’t waste time right now. They’re not in the clear yet. They have to go. “Garcia… stop… please, stop…”

But he doesn’t stop.

She understands that he wants to make sure she’s not hurt, but she’s struck by fear. Fear that more Rittenhouse agents have been dispatched to kill them.

“Stop…” She sobs. “Garcia… please… we have to go…”

She’s gentle as she hits his chest, trying to get him to listen to her. But he doesn’t stop looking her over. One hand holds gently onto the back of her neck as the other caresses just above her scraped knee. She hits him harder and harder on the chest still begging him to go. Her cries become more intense as her heart races. She’s terrified that Rittenhouse will return. That they’ll kill him and take her back to her mother, and that they will punish her and kill her for failing her loyalty test.

“Please… Garcia…” She sobs. “We have to go… stop…”

He runs his hand through her blood-soaked hair and she slaps him hard across the face.

She covers her mouth with her hand and cries, squeezing her eyes shut, hating herself for hitting him. He doesn’t deserve that. He only wants to take care of her and make sure that she’s safe. She shouldn’t push that away.

He pulls away from her, stunned.

He doesn’t know what to say.

He heard her.

He heard her begging him to stop checking her over, to drive away before Rittenhouse comes back, but he ignored her.

He feels guilty.

He feels like an asshole.

He never wanted her to feel afraid. He wanted her to feel safe. Safe and protected because he cared enough to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but… he lowers his head and then raises his eyes to look at her. Her arms are wrapped around her body and she’s staring out the front window of the car.

“Lucy…”

“Get off at the next exit and we’ll steal another car.” She wipes tears away with the back of her hand.

He says nothing more as he shifts the car into drive. He speeds toward the next exit and turns onto a back country road. A few minutes later he pulls the car up behind an old abandoned gas station. He shuts off the engine and gets out of the car.

He slams the door shut behind him.

He’s still angry with himself.

He knows that that they didn’t have time to waste for him to check her over, but Jesus fucking Christ he needed to know that she was all right. He’s still not entirely convinced she’s made it through this unharmed. There’s so much blood all over her from when he shot that man in the hotel parking lot. He runs his hand over his face where she slapped him, his skin still stings.

And he doesn’t blame her for slapping him to get his head on straight.

He should have listened to her.

He looks up at the sky as he hears the familiar sound of a UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter flying close overhead, that’s definitely Rittenhouse as local law enforcement wouldn’t have access to the Army’s front-line helicopter used for air assaults. Shit. Rittenhouse isn’t fucking around. That thing could blow them away from the sky.

He looks around him. This abandoned gas station is surrounded by overgrown trees. Those should provide enough cover to keep an eye in the sky from spotting their car.

He reaches in through the window of the backseat and grabs his duffle bag as Lucy slowly gets out of the car. He goes to her and takes her overnight bag off her shoulder, carrying it for her. He looks down at her and his heart breaks. Her hair is wet and it still has blood in it. Her eyes are red from crying. Her white t-shirt is stained pink and red, she’s wearing only her white panties. And somehow in the middle of all this she lost one of the socks she was wearing. Her knees are scraped and bleeding from kneeling on the broken shards of glass in the back seat.

“I saw a gas station just down the road… we can steal a new car there.” She tells him, her voice faint. She can’t bring herself to look him in the eye.

“I know, but we’re not going there just yet.”

She stifles back a cry and her legs give out on her. She reaches for him for support and he places his hand behind her back and picks her up in his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck as he carries her toward the back door of this abandoned gas station. It’s already cracked open.

_Thank God for small favors._

They enter the building and it’s filled with empty shelves and there’s garbage all over the floor. It’s not sanitary and since she’s barefoot, he carries her over to the checkout counter and sits her down on it. He sets their bags on the floor beneath her feet.

“Stay here.” He tells her.

Lucy watches him as he walks through the debris that was left behind when this gas station closed. Every now and then he disappears from view as he bends down to look at something.

She looks around.

The front door is boarded up. There’s a retail beverage display that looks to have old bottles of soda in it, a Pepsi bottle with a logo that was used up until – she thinks – the mid-2000s.

The light that shines through the dirty, boarded windows is dim. The air is humid and it smells like something has died. Dead leaves and puddles of water are on the floor and vulgar graffiti is spray painted all over the walls.

In an ideal situation, she would not be happy to be here, but she understands that she can’t just waltz into a gas station dressed as she is dressed, and covered in blood. She presses her hands on her thighs and is too afraid to touch her scraped knees with the blood of a stranger all over her body.

The only thing keeping her from a complete meltdown is knowing that she is not alone. That Garcia is here with her and that her safety is of utmost importance to him. She tells herself over and over that Rittenhouse is adamant about running blood tests on their field agents so even if his blood mixed with hers, she’s fairly certain that she won’t pick up any disease. Hell, when she first arrived at Rittenhouse even her mother was having her blood tested weekly. Not because she thought she carried some disease or virus but because she wanted to know if-

“I found some bottles of water.” He says as he makes his way back to her, carrying a few bottles of drinking water in his hands. He places the bottles next to her on top of the counter. “You can use these to wash up.” He’s avoiding eye contact with her. He feels guilty about checking her over in the car to the point where he was ignoring her. “Don’t drink it though, the chemicals from the plastic will have seeped into the liquid.”

He looks up at her and is surprised when Lucy places her hands on the sides of his face.

“I’m sorry I hit you, Garcia.” She leans toward him and places a kiss on his forehead. “I was scared and...” She shakes her head and looks down. “I know you were scared too and-”

“I was terrified, Lucy.” His voice trembles, and he rests his forehead against hers, holding her face with both hands. Feeling her tears wet against his skin.

In his hands, she is small and meek, but she’s anything but that. He closes his eyes are replays what he saw when she helped take out one of the Rittenhouse cars. He knows she’s not an experienced shooter, but she got the job done. He knows that she was terrified. She was scared for her life and she still trusted him and found the courage to help him.

His heart swells with love for this woman and he wants to tell her what she means to him, but… but they’re not _there_ yet. He feels it in his heart that he loves her so completely, and he hopes one day she’ll feel this way for him too. He runs his hands down her arms and rests them on her thighs. Lucy wraps her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his back, desperate to pull him closer to her.

“Želim te drzati.” Her whisper is a cry.

His heart aches hearing her speak in his language. He understands English perfectly, but hearing her tell him that she wants to hold him carries so much more meaning to him in the Croatian language than in English. Despite her frustration with him in the car, despite her slapping him across the face when he ignored her, she still wants him, needs him.

She wraps her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. She tilts her head into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her body tight against his chest. She cries softly into him. They hold onto each other for as long as it takes for her tears to subside. Until they breath in tandem with one another, until they both know without saying that everything is all right for now and they have to keep going.

Until their hearts beat as one.

When Lucy unwraps her arms from around his neck, she sees that there are tears in his eyes as there are in hers. They are both so broken and there’s no time for them to try to heal each other. Their well-being, their emotional health has to be set aside.

They have to focus on Rittenhouse.

They have to defeat Rittenhouse before their lives might be able to return to normal.

She doesn’t really think that after this is all over that either one of them will ever be able to live a normal life again. He’s a fugitive and even if they beat Rittenhouse, he will still be a wanted man. They’ll only have each other to talk to about time travel. And she knows even now that she wants him in her life after everything is over.

But they will always be haunted by what they’ve been through.

By what they’ve sacrificed in their fight against Rittenhouse.

By everything that they’ve lost because of Rittenhouse.

Lucy touches the locket around her neck, the back of her fingers running across a patch of dried blood on her neck. She needs to get washed up so they can get to that other gas station, pick up some supplies, steal another car… some food would be nice as she only had a small bowl of cereal for breakfast.

Garcia looks away from her and picks up one of the bottles of water and twists open its plastic cap.

Lucy takes hold of the hem of her t-shirt and strips it off her body, throwing it onto the ground. She sits before him in her blood-stained undergarments. Lucy looks down at her sports bra, his blood has stained it. She glances at his arm and sees that it is still bleeding. But she trusts that if his wound needed to be tended to that he would let her know. He follows her gaze and looks at his arm, he nods his head to let her know he’ll be all right. Then Lucy locks her eyes with his as she removes her blood-stained sports bra. Her heart pounds in her chest and she’s well-aware that her breasts rise and fall with her heavy breathing.

But he doesn’t look down. He maintains eye contact with her as she sits in front of him wearing only her panties. She makes no motion to cover herself in front of him.

She trusts him.

Garcia turns his head to the side and without saying a word, he bends down and picks up his duffle bag. He places it next to Lucy on the counter and retrieves one of the shirts he bought this morning. He pours water on it and turns to look at her, making eye contact. He presses down firmly as he starts wiping the dry blood from her body. He starts with her arms and she winces as he has to apply pressure to remove the blood that covers the bruise on her arm.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“It’s ok.”

He finishes cleaning both her arms and wets the shirt again and gently cleans her neck. He remembers how she’s sensitive to being touched here and applies light pressure. He feels her swallow as he wipes the shirt across her skin.

“Are you ok?” He asks her, looking her in the eyes.

She doesn’t say anything.

She only nods her head and he’s not sure if he believes her.

But she isn’t telling him to stop so he continues, making sure that he’s attentive to her body language in case the pressure he’s applying to her neck triggers her.

She squeezes her eyes shut and he stops.

“Hey…”

He touches her shoulder and she flinches at his touch.

He swallows hard.

He had assumed that her reaction to his touching her neck was because of him grabbing her and throwing her down in 1865 at Ford’s Theater, but now he’s not so sure.

All the muscles in her body are tense and her skin glistens with sweat even though it’s been a cool morning, even more so inside this abandoned building. She looks up at him, her eyes holding his gaze. Her pupils are dilated and her breathing is short.

He’s seen this before.

He’s experienced it himself when he was still a teenager, after the Croatian War of Independence.

“It’s not you, Garcia.” She says, reaching out to hold onto his wrist. “I promise… it’s not you… it’s them.”

All he can think now is what the fuck did they do to her at Rittenhouse that gave her PTSD?

He’s angry.

Those bastards hurt her.

And he will burn down the world to destroy them for it.

He’s startled when he feels Lucy take hold of his hand, snapping him right back to reality. She looks at him with sad eyes.

“Garcia… it’s not because of you.” She says, taking hold of his face and looking him in the eye. “You help me.”

He lowers his head, unable to meet her eyes.

He doesn’t know what to say so he remains silent.

He can’t help but feel like it’s his fault that Rittenhouse got to her. He should have been more careful. He should have… he should have gone to her before he stole the goddamn Mothership and recruited her to help him before Rittenhouse and Homeland could approach her to join Wyatt and Rufus to chase him through time.

Everything she’s suffered could have been avoided if he had just done things differently.

But he can’t change their past.

He can’t go back to 2014 and tell himself not to follow her journal word-for-word.

To tell himself to go to Lucy after he leaves São Paulo and to recruit her then.

They cannot travel back in time to when they already exist.

He wets the shirt again and places his hand on her shoulder as he carefully wipes her upper chest clean, going only as low as he has to, to clean all the remaining blood splatter. He focuses his eyes on her collarbone and relies on his peripheral vision to spot blood any lower than that. He swallows hard as he feels more constricted in his pants.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

This is no time for him to become aroused. He shifts his stance so that his legs are further apart. No, that isn’t helping things. He runs the wet shirt along the side of Lucy’s breast which only causes her nipple to harden more than it already was.

Lucy laughs quietly and he jerks his head back up to look at her.

“What?” He asks, only slightly worried that she’s taken notice of the growing bulge in his pants. But also relieved that she is better. Her laugh is music to his ears.

“Nothing… it’s just… I could have done this on my own, but-”

Garcia’s face turns red with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

He sets the wet t-shirt in her lap and turns his back to her. _One potato, two potatoes, three potatoes – four. Five potatoes, six potatoes, seven potatoes – more._ Garcia can’t exactly excuse himself to go jerk off this erection so, nursery rhymes it is. And in the tune of _Are You Sleeping? (Brother John):_ _Bratec Martin, Bratec Martin. Kaj još spiš? Kaj još spiš? Več ti ura tuče, morning bells are ringing-_

Lucy places her hand on his shoulder and still trying to lighten the mood, she tells him, “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

He doesn’t say anything. He actually has no idea how to respond to her flirtation.

Feeling the constriction between his legs has somewhat subsided, he turns around and watches her as she leans backward on the counter, pouring a bottle of water through her hair. She’s still wearing only her panties. He stares at the wall behind her as she sits back up and uses the wet shirt to soak up the water in her hair.

“I’m sorry, Lucy. I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“I liked your assumption.” She smiles to assure him that she’s not offended that he took it upon himself to wipe down her chest. Truth be told, it was arousing in the way that he didn’t intend for it to be arousing. “Could you hand me a clean shirt?”

He digs into her overnight bag and takes out a black camisole top.

He hands it to her.

He looks away as she raises her arms to slip into the top. He digs into her bag and takes out her grey sweatpants, he looks at her as she has her hands down the front of her camisole and is adjusting her breasts in its shelf bra. She smiles at him as she takes the sweats and pulls them up around her waist. She looks around her and grabs an old rubber band off the countertop and uses it to pull her wet hair back into a ponytail. She’s about to hop down off the counter but he places his hands on her legs and gestures to her to hold on for a moment.

He holds up a pair of socks and smiles. He holds her ankle and examines the bottom of her right foot for any cuts from when she ran through glass at the hotel parking lot. Her feet are dirty, but there’s no wound so he puts on a sock, and proceeds to do the same with her left foot.

“Thank you.”

He nods his head and gives her a shy smile.

“We need to get to that other gas station.” She says. “I still have no shoes and…” She bites her lower lip and looks down. “I’m worried that my mother may have implanted some kind of GPS tracking device on me. We need to stop them from finding us again because I do not want to go through what we’ve been through this morning ever again.”

Garcia nods his head and slings their bags over his shoulder. Lucy reaches out to him as he takes her in his arms to carry her outside. He doesn’t set her down as he makes his way to the road. He listens and no longer hears the Black Hawk helicopter in the sky above.

“You can put me down, you know.”

“What if I want to carry you?” He teases.

“Do I have a say in the matter?”

“Of course.”

“I need to walk. I’ve still got a lot of pent up nervous energy that I need to work off…” She trails off as he lowers her to the ground.

Garcia clears his throat and tells her, “So, here’s what I’m thinking. We get to this gas station, see if we can still use Harper’s credit card-”

“No. Rittenhouse knew where we stayed last night, they’ll know to trace activity on that card.”

He nods his head, of course, she’s right. He tries again. “We’ll use the rest of the cash that we have and buy a first aid kit …”

He looks down at Lucy as she takes hold of his arm and moves the sleeve up over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Checking on your wound.”

“It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”

Lucy stops walking and wipes fresh blood from his bicep. She shows it to him, “you’re still bleeding.” She wipes the blood off on his shirt. “At least you’re wearing black.”

She digs through his duffle bag and opens a bottle of water. She shakes her head as she uses another one of the new t-shirts he bought to wipe his wound clean. He winces as the water and sweat on his arm sting the wound.

“We’re gonna run out of clothes before we know it.” She says as she rummages through the duffle bag and takes out the package of feminine sanitary pads. She rips it open and hands him a couple pads. “Hold on.” She tells him.

Garcia looks down at the pads in his hand as Lucy runs back to the car they’re abandoning. He watches as she rummages around. She seems to find what she was looking for and comes back to him with a roll of Scotch tape in her hand.

“I was hoping for duct tape, but this’ll have to do.”

She takes one of the pads from his hand and opens the package, and uses it to dry his wound. She tucks the wrapper into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks down at her with soft eyes. He’s used to living a life in Hell and he’ll do anything and everything he can to take care of her, but here she is… taking care of him. He’s touched. He allows himself to feel her energy, to know that there is still one person in this world that cares for him.

Lucy Preston.

She unwraps the other sanitary pad and presses it against the gunshot wound on his arm. He could easily do this on his own, but he feels it’s important to her for him not to take this from her. For her to have a sense of control. Never mind the fact that he enjoys watching her fuss over him just as he does her. She uses her elbow to hold the pad against the wound as she gets a large piece of tape and starts to secure the makeshift bandage.

“I bet you didn’t think you’d be using one of these before me, huh?” She jokes.

He laughs, “No.”

“The good news is that it’s just a graze. I don’t think that it’ll kill you.”

“And the bad news?” He asks.

“I’m not a doctor so for all I know your arm could fall off by morning.” She says, matter-of-fact.

“Somehow, I doubt that, Dr. Preston.” He nudges her playfully.

“All I know about medicine is what I learned from watching ER and Scrubs in college.”

“What did you learn?”

“Men look good in a lab coats and scrubs.” She pauses and considers. “I guess it makes sense that in this timeline I came back from the Hindenburg and was engaged to a doctor.”

Garcia laughs, “so, I _am_ going to lose my arm?” He raises his arm up to show her, her handy work. “It’s a good thing you used up all that tape, that should keep my arm from falling off.”

“Shut up.”

They walk together in silence on the side of the road. Garcia glances down at Lucy as she watches the ground, making sure not to step on any pieces of loose concrete or large rocks.

“Lucy?”

“Hm?”

She keeps her eyes on the ground as she steps over a large rock.

“We might… and know that this is a last resort scenario, but we might, rather, I might have to steal from the gas station.”

“Oh?” She looks up at him.

“We only have about twenty dollars and that can only get us so much, and I… you need shoes.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything but her pace slows.

He continues. “We haven’t had much to eat since we broke out of prison either and… I was thinking if we steal some better clothes and get you shoes that we could use that twenty dollars for lunch.”

Lucy nods her head slowly, “then that’s what we have to do.”

“I also want to check you over once we get to the gas station. That place back there had bad lighting and if you think Rittenhouse has a GPS implant in you… we need to find it and I can remove it.”

Lucy sighs and walks closer to Garcia, allowing the back of her hand to brush against his. He takes the cue and holds her hand, weaving his fingers between hers. He gives her a reassuring squeeze. Her body language changed drastically when he mentioned removing any implant he might find on her body. They both know that means he’ll have to use a knife to cut her and digging an implant out from under her skin without anything to dull the pain is going to hurt.

She rests her head against his arm.

She’s tired.

She’s hungry.

And though she understood what she was getting herself into when she escaped prison with Garcia, she’s already tired of life on the run and it’s only been a little over twenty-four hours since their escape.

And in that time, they’ve been shot at by prison security, learned that they might not be able to trust Agent Christopher, had a shootout at the hotel with Rittenhouse agents, she’s been pulled out of a car and had the muzzle of a gun held against her head, a man’s blood and brain matter had been splattered all over her, a dangerous car chase, she shot out the tire of a car, had a breakdown and slapped Garcia, and stripped herself naked in front of him to clean herself off.

She hopes that the excitement slows down and that the rest of their trip to Houston is smooth sailing. Of course, they’re being hunted by Rittenhouse. She’s sure they haven’t seen the end of this kind of chaos.

She actually misses the days when she and Garcia were enemies, opponents fighting against each other as he ravaged his way through time. Somehow, those days seem a lot simpler than what their lives have become. That was before she knew her mother was a member of Rittenhouse. It was before she lost her friends in the explosion at Mason Industries. She still had hope that she’d be able to go back and save her sister.

Hope.

She thinks back to when Garcia recited passages of her journal, describing the life that they lived on a ranch in Montana. She wishes that she were at that ranch right now, sipping a cup of coffee on the front porch, watching Garcia ride his horse. Knowing without a doubt that they are safe, and that their lives were able to return to some kind of normalcy.

She holds her hand over her abdomen and thinks of the child she might lose. She knows that a relationship with Garcia is not guaranteed. But if it happens, there’s no way in the world that she wants to lose their child. Not after what her mother told her when she was held prisoner at Rittenhouse.

“When you were with Rittenhouse…” Garcia starts.

Lucy snaps her head to look at him. If she didn’t know any better, she would think she was thinking out loud. It’s as if he’s read her mind.

He hesitates to bring up her time held in Rittenhouse’s captivity after her reaction earlier. He continues as delicately as he can. “…do you remember any instance in which you woke up feeling groggy, like you were drugged? Or did you find or feel any incision or scar?”

“Without going into specifics… yes, but I never felt like they cut me to… implant something beneath my skin… I mean… I guess it’s possible… I don’t know, Garcia. Every night they forced me to take a sedative that knocked me out cold, forcing me to sleep. I refused the first few times and they had John force it down my throat. He covered my mouth and nose so I couldn’t breathe until I was forced to swallow.”

Garcia is horrified by this. He releases her hand and wraps his arm around her shoulders. If that was how they treated her just to get her to fall asleep at night, what other horrible things have they done to her?

“If you… if you ever need to talk about what happened-”

“I don’t.”

“I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Lucy… I mean that… I’m not here to judge or to cast blame. I understand.”

Lucy nods her head. She doesn’t doubt a word he says.

It’s bad enough that her own mother asked her to murder him in order to prove her loyalty to Rittenhouse, “phase two,” they called it. It was even more disturbing to find out what they had planned for her “phase three,” a self-sacrifice to help benefit the organization – her lone mission in time. She’s not sure if she’ll ever want to talk about her first phase at Rittenhouse, her “breaking in period,” but at least with Garcia she feels that it’s an option, and that if she tells him that he’ll listen to her. That he won’t judge her for what she went through. That he might be able to help, and even maybe heal her.

A few minutes later they’re making their way through the parking lot of the gas station. Garcia is taking stock of what cars are available to them to steal. A rusty old 1987 station wagon… a red van with kids piling out of it, no… a silver 2015 Ford F150, maybe… But first thing’s first, he needs to look over Lucy thoroughly for any kind of GPS implant, and go through everything she brought with her that she had at Rittenhouse headquarters.

He opens the door to the gas station. They enter together and are overwhelmed by the smell of fresh baked bread from the adjoining Subway restaurant.

“And we’re eating lunch before we leave.” She goes up on tip-toes to whisper to him, “Even if that means holding this place up at gunpoint and ordering a sandwich to go.” She winks at him, half serious but mostly joking.

As they make their way toward the restroom at the back of the store, Garcia swipes a lighter from a display and a first aid kit from a shelf. That should be all he’ll need if they find a GPS implant beneath Lucy’s skin. Lucy knocks on the restroom door to make sure no one is inside. She opens the door and sees that it is a small, compact room.

_Great… small spaces…_

This really is not her day.

There’s a single toilet which looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in weeks, a leaky sink and a trash bin in the corner which is overflowing. It’s disgusting, but it’ll have to do.

“At least the light works.” She says and gestures for Garcia to enter before her. She needs to take a moment and talk herself into entering this small room with him.

He enters and motions for her to come in and shut the door.

Lucy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and exhales slowly as she counts to three. She opens her eyes and focuses on Garcia. She won’t be in there alone. He’ll be there with her and the door only locks from inside. She can’t get trapped.

_Fear isn’t real._

“Lucy?”

“Give me a minute.” She says, closing her eyes again and reminding herself that she’s been in much worse spaces before. Her car accident and the Murder Castle come to mind.

She imagines the open spaces at the base of a mountain range in Montana, a beautiful ranch home and stables with horses. The way snow-capped mountains look like oil paintings as she stands outside on the porch sipping her morning coffee. She visualizes Garcia riding up to a nearby fence on a beautiful dark brown Thoroughbred horse.

_Fear isn’t real._

_Fear isn’t what’s actually happening._

“Lucy… it’s ok.”

Lucy opens her eyes and sees Garcia offering his hand to her. She takes it and steps inside the restroom, closing the door behind her.

She understands what he needs to do to check her for an implant. She understands that if he doesn’t perform a thorough search of her body that they not only put themselves in danger of being found by Rittenhouse, but also his mother once they get to Texas. She turns to face him, placing her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she removes her sweatpants.

She looks around the restroom and decides to place it on the wet sink. His eyes are soft and apologetic as she strips off the black camisole, once again standing before him almost completely naked. Only now she feels… vulnerable and exposed. Her heart is racing and it feels like everything is closing in on her. She’s short of breath and light-headed.

“Hey…” Garcia’s voice is soft.

“I’m sorry… I… claustrophobia.” She explains. She feels him gently hold onto her arm. “I just need to keep control of… of my thoughts, that’s all.”

“Here.” He closes the lid on the toilet. “Sit down.”

He holds her hand as she sits and he kneels down in front of her. Lucy appreciates that he’s holding her hands, giving her something to hold onto, to ground herself in the reality that there is nothing to fear.

“I can breathe…” She whispers to herself. “I’m not going to die… I’m in control.” She feels Garcia caress his thumb over her hand. She looks at him and forces a smile.

“What’s one of your favorite memories from when you were a kid?” He asks.

Lucy breathes deep through her nose, holds the breath and forcefully exhales through her mouth. She keeps her eyes locked with Garcia’s. She nods her head to acknowledge that she heard his question.

“I was twelve and Amy was five… and we had this big, open backyard. Amy was always more of a tomboy than I was and our dad was out of town for work and… and Amy wanted to learn how to play baseball. So, I’m sitting on my bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and I’m reading a book about Annie Oakley, and how she could make shots by shooting behind her back using a mirror to take aim at her target and… Amy jumps up onto my bed with this yellow plastic baseball bat.” Lucy laughs at the memory. “She was the most adorable thing with her hair in pigtails. Mom put me in charge as she quick ran to the store to pick up something she needed for dinner, and so Amy’s begging me, tugging on my dress, to teach her how to play baseball.”

“Amy sounds a lot like Iris.” He tells her. “Let me guess… you teach Amy how to hit the ball and even if she misses, she still runs for the base, slides around in the mud and gets dirty?”

“Almost.” Lucy returns his smile. “Amy asks me to show her how to hit, she pitches the ball to me and it goes into our mother’s flower garden. Amy starts chasing me and we end up tackling each other into the garden, getting mud all over my pretty white dress and of course, in my hair.”

Garcia laughs and raises his brow.

“Mom comes home and catches us rolling around, ruining her garden. Flowers are uprooted all over the place. I get grounded for two weeks and Amy doesn’t.”

“What?”

“That’s how it always went. I had to be the responsible one, and Amy was the wild child.” Lucy says this with her eyes sparkling. She always admired how her sister could get away with pushing boundaries and breaking the rules. “Anyway, when Amy got to high school, she petitioned to be allowed to play baseball with the boys and helped bring the team to the State Championships, came in runner up and Amy was their starting center fielder. She had an arm like a rocket, and as a hitter she logged nineteen homeruns during her senior year.”

Lucy smiles at the memory and then stands up and looks down at Garcia. She nods her head at him to let him know that she’s ok. She’s aware that she’s wearing just her panties in front of him so, she turns away from him to face herself in the mirror above the sink.

“Let’s get this started, shall we?” She says.

He stands behind her and places his hands on her shoulders. He carefully moves her ponytail over her shoulder and examines the back of her neck.

“What sport did you play in school?” He asks as he rolls his thumb over her neck.

“Tennis and I took ballet three times a week, and my mom made me take piano and voice lessons too.”

“Sounds like you kept busy.”

Lucy tilts her head to the side to provide him better access to the side of her neck.

“And I spent hours in the library doing history research projects. I don’t really remember having much free time, or many friends for that matter.”

“I didn’t have many friends growing up either.” He moves her ponytail to her other shoulder. “My parents were always moving around. One city today, another city next month. I didn’t even really date anyone until I was an adult, after the war.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I saw terrible things during the war, Lucy. Families torn apart… I lost friends and relatives… I was afraid to… to lose someone I cared for, that I loved so… I didn’t go out of my way to find love.” His eyes meet hers in the reflection of the mirror. “Funny how that worked out, huh?”

Her heart sinks hearing the sadness in his voice. She wants to say something, anything to him to take his pain away, but there’s nothing she can say that can erase what happened to his family. She keeps watching him in the mirror as he slides his hand down the middle of her back. The sensation of his hands on her skin sends shivers through her body. He places his hands on her hips and lowers out of her view.

She takes in a sharp breath and her muscles tense when she feels him lower the back of her panties as he continues to look for a GPS implant. His thumbs knead her skin, trailing slowly across the rim of her underwear. Lucy closes her eyes and allows herself a moment to imagine what his fingers might feel like massaging her between her legs. His touch is firm on her skin. She imagines how his calloused fingertips might feel stroking her clit and gently plunging inside of her, bringing her closer and closer to climax. She opens her eyes and looks at herself in the mirror. She’s aware of the throbbing ache between her legs.

“Nice tattoo.” He says, sounding as breathless as she feels.

He traces the outline of a small pink lily flower tattoo on the small of her back with his fingertips. Her skin is tingling from head to toe and she feels the skin around her nipples tighten at her arousal.

“Thank you… I uh… I got it… it was supposed to be a significant day for me, but…”

He places both his hands on her hips and stands up tall behind her.

“I need to check your… your breasts.” He tells her, trying to sound clinical, but failing miserably.

Lucy swallows and nods her head to give him consent.

Her heart races as she anticipates what it’ll feel like for his hands to thoroughly examine her breasts. She bites her lower lip and closes her eyes in anticipation. Yes. She wants to get to know him better. She wants to know him well enough where they can lie in bed together at night and if the mood hits, he’ll think nothing of when she slides her hand down the front of his boxers to stroke him. She wants to know him well enough that when she does that, he won’t need to look for consent to-

She gasps as his fingertips gently examine the side of her breast. She looks back into the mirror and watches him. He stands behind her, his eyes focused on her chest as he looks for incision scars. All she wants is to reach up and wrap her arm around the back of his neck and lean into him and ask him to touch her between her legs, but no… she can’t do that.

That’s not why they’re here.

She needs something, anything to distract her from how much this is turning her on.

Then she remembers she was about to tell him about her tattoo.

“I got the tattoo the night I was going to tell my mother that…” She watches him in the mirror as he cups her breast, fingering beneath the crest of her skin. He uses his hand to lift her arm up over her head to give him better access.

“Hold your arms up.” He says as he steps in front of her.

He sits down on the lid of the toilet for a better angle to examine beneath her breasts.

Lucy raises both hands to rest on top of her head. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she feels Garcia lift her breasts with his hands. If she doesn’t keep talking, she’s going to start moaning and… _God, please don’t let him notice how wet I am through my panties…_

She attempts to continue her tattoo story, “… that… that… I was going…” Shit, she’s panting. “I… I was going to tell my mother that I was joining a band and…” Lucy closes her eyes and bites her lip as his fingertips gently explore her skin, gently caressing her hardened nipple.

“You were going to join a band?” His voice wavers, giving away that he too is aroused.

“Mmmhmmm…” She moans. “I was… I was ready to abandon the whole history thing… I was on my way to tell my mom that… I was dropping out of school… I was out with my boyfriend at the time, Jake, he was… the lead singer and… and… to mark the moment that I was… that I was finally going to stand up to my mom, I… lilies are supposed to represent death and rebirth, and commitment… and…”

Garcia stands up again moving behind her. The room is too small and his erection brushes against her skin through his jeans. The sensation of his dick pressing against her hits him like lightning. He looks at their reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are closed and there’s a serene expression on her face.

She parts her lips and wets them with her tongue.

He knows that he should examine her lower, between her legs in case Rittenhouse attempted to hide a GPS implant in a location that they don’t think anyone would look. But he saw that her panties are wet from what he’s done so far to look for the damn thing… he’s not sure he can… do that. He’s already given too much thought about how his fingers might feel sliding between her folds and stroking her to climax, what it might be like to taste her.

He closes his eyes and attempts to talk himself down. If he doesn’t figure out how Rittenhouse was able to locate their exact location, they are not safe. Not even here, in this gas station restroom. And Lucy is vulnerable right now. Naked and vulnerable and there’s no way in the world that he’s going to allow her to run around in public half naked again. _One potato… two potatoes…_ Lucy leans back against his body, giving into the sensations she’s feeling. Sure, this isn’t the time or place for her to enjoy this, but-

“Lucy?” His voice is quiet.

“Hm?”

He lowers his mouth to her ear, and whispers, “I know, draga… I’m feeling this too, but I can’t look you over if you’re leaning on me, and if we let these… _feelings_ … get in our way.” He places a soft kiss on her temple. He watches her in the mirror as she slowly opens her eyes. She looks at their reflection. She’s holding onto his arms which he’s wrapped around her waist. His chin rests on top of her head.

She nods her head and turns to face him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He wets his lips and takes hold of her arms. “It’s been a long time since I felt this way for anyone, Lucy. I just… I don’t want us to rush anything. Plus…” He chuckles softly, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’m sure neither one of us wants our… first time to be in the restroom of a gas station.”

Lucy nods her head. She knows he’s right.

“I need to examine…” He runs his hand through his hair. “Between… between your legs and of course your legs themselves and…”

Lucy touches the side of his face. She really, really does not want him to look at her _there_.

“You didn’t see anything suspicious anywhere else?” She asks, lowering her hands to his chest.

He takes hold of her hand and kisses her knuckles as he shakes his head. He turns her hand over and looks closely at the palm of her hand.

“I didn’t check here.” He says. And honestly, he isn’t comfortable with the idea of examining the skin of her most private and intimate area either. He stalls by checking her hands. “So… what did your mother say when you told her you were joining a band?” He changes the topic back to what she had been telling him before things got heated between them.

“I never told her. I… hit an oil slick on the road… and uh… my car spun out into the river, filled up with water. Nothing worked, doors wouldn’t open and… someone pulled me out. I lost consciousness and woke up in a hospital a couple hours later. My mom was there… Amy… and…” Her eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God.”

“What?” He asks, as he focuses on the ring she’s wearing on her finger.

“Noah.”

“Noah?” He asks.

“He was… I’m pretty sure he was the attending in the ER that night.”

“Lucy?”

“No one knew who brought me to the ER, and my mother didn’t seem to concern herself with that, only that I was saved-”

“Lucy?” He says her name louder as he glides his thumb over her ring.

“Did you find something?” She looks down at his hand.

“Did they give you this ring?”

“It’s been in my family for generations. My mom gave it to me to wear when I was sent to visit you in prison.”

“May I see it?”

Lucy nods and removes the ring, placing it in his hand. He moves past her to stand under the lights above the sink. He shakes his head.

“Your mother trusted you not to lose it?”

“I guess so.”

“Look.”

He holds the ring out to her and uses his fingernail to show her a small black mark just beneath one of the embedded diamonds.

“I’ve seen and used one of these before. It’s years ahead of its time but if you know the right people, or have government connections, you can get your hands on it for a certain price.” He looks at her for reaction. “They’re hard to remove without the right technology, Lucy, but I can try.”

“What are you saying? That my mother… that she would do that to a family heirloom because… because she didn’t trust that I wouldn’t run away?”

“She wasn’t wrong.”

Lucy closes her eyes and shakes her head, fighting back tears.

“That means… Garcia… if I failed to kill you, they were going to kill me. My mother made the decision to put a tracking device on me so that if we ran off, if I helped you escape, that she could find me so they could track me down and kill me. That man at the hotel, the one that grabbed me… he was sent to kill me _for her_.”

Her mother wants her dead.

This realization hits Lucy like a freight train.

 “Lucy…” He reaches out to comfort her but she shoves his hand away as she quickly changes back into her camisole and sweatpants.

She needs to get out of here.

She needs to run away.

She spins around and grabs onto the sink, holding onto it as hard as she can. She’s breathing rapidly and hard, but she can’t control her breathing and the walls are crashing in around her.

Her mother sent Rittenhouse agents to murder her.

And it’s her fault they tracked them to the hotel.

If only she had the mind to take off the ring and leave it behind at that prison. But she couldn’t. It’s part of her family history and she thought that it was her responsibility to keep it. She may not have the best relationship with her mother now, but she was raised on the importance of family traditions. Her mother gave her this ring.

She loves the ring.

She remembers seeing pictures of other relatives wearing it when she was young and she always imagined what her wedding day would be like when her husband placed the ring on her finger and kissed her. This ring has been a part of every wedding day fantasy she’s had since she was a little girl.

And her mother used it to track her down so her agents could kill her.

Her stomach churns and contracts.

She’s going to vomit.

She pushes Garcia back and drops to her knees in front of the toilet bowl.

Garcia is at her side in a heartbeat, holding back her ponytail and rubbing her back. She’s in tears as her stomach violently contracts again, she heaves and vomits again. Once she is done, she collapses into him, sprawling out in his lap as he holds her in his arms.

There’s a knock on the restroom door.

“Hey! Hurry up in there!” A man’s voice shouts from outside.

Lucy lets out a cry as she pulls away from Garcia. She stands up and opens the door. She looks up at a large, tall, angry looking man.

“I just lost my mother!” She yells at him with tears streaming down her face.

She tries to push the stranger aside to pass, but he doesn’t budge. He doesn’t push back and he doesn’t say anything. He watches her as she stumbles down the aisle toward the exit. The man looks up at Garcia as he exits the restroom.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry I upset your wife.” He’s genuinely apologetic.

Garcia only nods his head and follows Lucy out of the gas station. He finds her sitting with her back up against the brick wall on the side of the building. Her knees are tucked up under her chin.

Garcia sits down next to her and hands her the ring. He remains quiet to allow her as long as she needs to collect herself. Lucy holds the ring in her hand, but doesn’t put it back on her finger. She’s still in tears, but she’s silent.

He squints his eyes and looks up at the sky and licks his bottom lip. He scans the parking lot and sees that the silver F150 is still there. He wanted to steal some supplies from this gas station but he knows they’ve been here longer than they should. And with the microchip tracker in Lucy’s ring, Rittenhouse certainly will show up if they stick around much longer.

Rittenhouse won’t stop hunting them until they are dead.

He looks down at Lucy, she’s looking at him.

“I have to leave my mom’s ring here.” She says. “I… I don’t want you to remove the microchip in it. I want her to find it, and I want her to know that I know what she did, and that she wants me dead.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He knows that this isn’t easy for Lucy, who only a year ago faced the harsh truth that her mother’s cancer had come out of remission and that there was nothing doctors could do to save her. In the journal, Lucy’s mom was sick and was never saved because of his actions at the Hindenburg.

“I’m gonna go buy some sandwiches for the road.” He runs the back of his finger across her arm. “Go stand by that truck and wait for me.” He nods his head in the direction of the silver F150.

“Are you sure there were no signs that Rittenhouse put a tracking device in me?”

“I’m almost positive.”

“But not one-hundred percent sure?”

“I looked in the most common places for an implant, Lucy. I think you’re ok.”

He holds his hands out to her and helps her to her feet. She’s still only in her socks. Once she’s on her feet she takes one last look at her mother’s ring and she drops it on the ground. The sound of its precious metal hitting the ground drives one more nail into the coffin of her former life.

“Once we get far enough away from here, we’ll get you a proper pair of shoes, ok?” He says, wanting to get her mind off of that ring and her mother.

They walk together hand-in-hand back to the front of the gas station. And instead of going to stand near the truck they’re going to steal, Lucy goes inside with him.

It’s safer this way.

She doesn’t want to be on her own if Rittenhouse shows up. She doesn’t want to be an easy target for them. She wants to be at his side, Garcia Flynn’s side. The only one in this world that she can trust.

They stand in line at the Subway restaurant inside the gas station and they do not have to hold the place up at gunpoint as they order their sandwiches, chips, bottles of water and white chip Macadamia nut cookies to go.


	5. Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol Preston contemplates the actions of her daughter. Meanwhile, in the New Mexico desert, Lucy starts writing a new journal which leads her to opening up to Garcia about what happened to her while she was held captive at Rittenhouse.

 

Tic… Toc… Tic… Toc…

Carol Preston sits at her office desk inside her residence in Rittenhouse’s headquarters. The walls are bare and there are moving boxes scattered all around the room in preparation for the group’s move to New York City. She stares at the pendulum of her grandfather clock as it swings back and forth. With each swing it is closer and closer to midnight.

Tic… Toc…

For Carol it has been a long and trying day as she was kept up to date with reports coming in about her daughter Lucy’s narrow escape with the terrorist Garcia Flynn. She had stood next to Emma in the communications room downstairs and listened in as their field agents had raided Lucy’s hotel room. With each gunshot, Carol feared that Lucy had been hurt. And she was furious when she overheard one of their men shout to the other to “kill the girl.” She glared at Emma who avoided looking at her. Emma had given the order to kill Lucy when she knew damn well that Lucy was to be taken alive and brought back to stand trial before the Table of Elders.

Carol was the one to call off the local authorities. She didn’t want to risk them killing her daughter, heiress to the Rittenhouse empire. She watched from the dashcams of Rittenhouse agents as they pursued Lucy and Flynn on an empty highway. She was sick to her stomach to see how brutal their field agents had been trying to kill them both. But she couldn’t call them off. She had no way to communicate with her agents on the ground. After they lost sight of them, she ordered that Rittenhouse dispatch one of their military helicopters to search for her daughter.

After searching for Lucy for over an hour, Carol called off the search.

Tic… Toc…

Carol knew that this wouldn’t be the last opportunity they would have to get Lucy and bring her back home to Rittenhouse. Carol couldn’t sit around all day and fester over it either. She and Emma had an important time mission to attend to. They had to go back to France in 1918 and save her grandfather’s, Nicholas Keynes, life and bring him back to 2017. They need his experience to rebuild Rittenhouse in the way that he envisioned the group to be when he wrote his manifesto. Back when he dared to dream that time travel was possible and could be used by Rittenhouse to change the past to change the minds of billions of people.

Carol squeezes her hand around the platinum diamond ring that was found on the ground at the gas station in Nevada this morning. The ring that she had given to Lucy to wear for her cover as Mrs. Garcia Flynn. She sighs and opens her hand and stares at the ring. It was a mistake embedding the microscopic GPS tracking chip beneath one of the diamonds, the diamond that Carol’s mother, Ruth, added to the ring when she married Jerome Preston in 1934. She should have implanted a device underneath Lucy’s skin, which is what Emma wanted to do, but Carol didn’t want to have her daughter undergo the procedure after everything she had been through in her first weeks at Rittenhouse. It would have meant being less than honest with Lucy in her preparation for her Phase Two loyalty test, and could have compromised everything.

Tic… Toc…

Carol never married a pure blood Rittenhouse member, but her family has been Rittenhouse royalty since the organization’s founding year in 1778 as she is a direct descendent of David Rittenhouse himself. A fact that she only recently explained to her daughter.

Rittenhouse has plans for Lucy.

Important plans.

Plans that they’ve know about since the late eighteenth century. Plans that they know will be followed through because of a journal that was written by Lucy from the year 1725 until her death by suicide in 1731. Although Carol knows her daughter’s fate, and it breaks her heart, she understands that it has to happen. Lucy must go back to ensure that David Rittenhouse is born so that he will live to establish the Rittenhouse empire. And perhaps Carol can save her from her suicide by insisting that they go back and bring Lucy back to 2017 before she kills herself.

Being royalty is never easy.

Lucy’s eighteenth century journal is one of the most revered relics of Rittenhouse history, even if what Lucy wrote in it is far from the positive image that Rittenhouse wants to reveal to the world. Its continued existence means that Lucy will return to them, and she will take part in her Phase Three self-sacrificing mission. Lucy is meant to play an important role to ensure the existence of Rittenhouse, and now everything is in jeopardy.

But they have to get to Lucy as soon as possible before Flynn and his ideas rot her mind. Before he can destroy everything that they did these past six weeks to change Lucy, to mold her into the heiress that she is. All of their plans, their very existence, are in danger because of Garcia Flynn. Somehow in only a couple short days, he managed to manipulate Lucy into helping him and to go on the run with him. Carol shakes her head. Lucy adapted so well to being Rittenhouse that she was certain that her daughter would never betray the group.

Lucy is meant to replace her at her seat at the Table of Elders.

Lucy’s father, Benjamin Cahill, though never a part of raising Lucy, wanted her to sit at the head of the table and reign as their queen after she returned from her mission in the eighteenth century. All they have to do is make sure they retrieve Lucy in 1730 before she can kill herself. Surely, if Carol shows up when her daughter is near her end, she’ll be more than willing to return to the present and do anything asked of her.

Carol slides the ring onto her finger for safe keeping. Perhaps when Lucy comes back from that mission, she’ll be willing to marry Noah Cantu, to bring him into Rittenhouse. Perhaps one day, Lucy will still wear this ring on her finger and give it to her first-born daughter on her wedding day. Carol has spoken with Noah about Lucy and he is well-aware that something has been different with Lucy, but he still hasn’t been brought into the fold. He still doesn’t know about Rittenhouse and that they want him as the group moves forward with their plans to control the world.

It breaks her heart.

Lucy left this priceless Rittenhouse family heirloom on the ground outside some trashy gas station just outside of Las Vegas. It breaks her heart that Lucy, her only daughter chose the one man that Rittenhouse fears the most, over her own family… Garcia Flynn.

Garcia Flynn, the man who stole their time machine, the Mothership, from Mason Industries only five months ago. A man whose name Rittenhouse has known since 1893 when J.P. Morgan reported back to the Table of Elders that a man named Garcia Flynn had attempted to interrupt a meeting between him and two other Rittenhouse members, Henry Ford and Thomas Edison, by blowing up the building they were in.

Rittenhouse once tried to prevent Garcia from being born when they attempted to kill his mother, Maria Thompkins, in a car accident in 1967. She and her son, Gabriel, survived, but her husband Mark Thompkins, was pronounced dead at the scene. They kept an eye on Maria after the accident. They even considered trying to kill her again, but it was Benjamin Cahill who suggested they allow Garcia Flynn to be born.

Tic… Toc…

Rittenhouse has kept an eye on Flynn since the day he was born in Split, Yugoslavia in September of 1975. They know almost everything about him. They were his elementary school teachers, his babysitters, his mentors, but they couldn’t keep track of him forever. They could monitor him the best they could, but his family moved around too frequently when he was young that it became impossible to infiltrate school systems in advance. When he came of age, they even tried to infiltrate his love life, but he pushed all their young female agents away.

He met Lorena Casey in Afghanistan in 2004 and they decided that though she wasn’t Rittenhouse that she was a fine pick for a man who could be their enemy. Carol and Benjamin even considered approaching her about joining Rittenhouse as she was a translator and with plans of world domination, they could use her expertise. But Cahill was worried that if Lorena was Rittenhouse that Garcia would find out about the group and expose them. So, they let her alone. They hoped when he became a father that he might never get involved in anything that would expose him to Rittenhouse. But they still assigned NSA agent Jake Neville to him in 2010 to keep an eye on him.

They’ve wondered if the Garcia Flynn they’ve watched for forty-one years is the same Garcia Flynn who is out to destroy them now. Have his trips through time changed him? Has he changed the present in a way that altered their files on him? They have no way of knowing. But they do know that the present has changed because of his actions in the past. Carol learned from Lucy that in another timeline she had been dying of cancer, and that Lucy had a sister named Amy. This information came as a surprise to Carol, and Rittenhouse has been on edge ever since.

Tic… Toc…

Rittenhouse, under Benjamin Cahill’s leadership, did not want to senselessly kill Garcia Flynn if they could avoid him altogether. Then on the sixth day of December in 2014, Agent Neville reported back to Carol that Flynn handed him information, information that Flynn had obtained after breaking through their encryption. Evidence that an organization named Rittenhouse was transferring large amounts of money to Connor Mason through the Caymans, to help him towards achieving time travel.

Benjamin was busy meeting with Connor Mason to check up on their progress with the time machine Rittenhouse had commissioned so he asked Carol to take care of the Flynn problem once and for all.

Carol set up a meeting with Rittenhouse’s newest star, the head of their field operations… Wyatt Logan. Carol gave Wyatt orders for him and his team to kill Garcia Flynn and his family. And four days later, Wyatt shot and killed Flynn’s wife and daughter, but failed to eliminate Garcia Flynn. The other agents on Wyatt’s team vouched for Wyatt, saying that he and Flynn had exchanged several rounds of gunfire before Flynn was able to escape.

The Table of Elders decided that Wyatt’s failure wasn’t a betrayal of Rittenhouse. But they downgraded his status from head of field operations to just field agent, a decision that Carol feels made Wyatt bitter and reckless. To this day, she still doubts his ability to get his job done. Over and over again, Wyatt failed to kill Garcia Flynn while chasing him through time with her daughter. She knows Wyatt is ambitious and suspects that he was trying to worm his way into Rittenhouse hierarchy by trying to get Lucy to fall in love with him, to talk her out of her engagement to Noah, his sole threat to entering Rittenhouse royalty.

Carol has read Lucy’s journal. She knows that her daughter was falling in love with Wyatt just before they brought her home to Rittenhouse. Maybe they need to make a play for Lucy. Use her feelings for Wyatt against her.

Tic… Toc…

Carol shakes her head, disappointed in Lucy. There’s very little about her daughter’s personal life that pleases her. First, Lucy falls in love with Wyatt. Their relationship ends suddenly after she spread her legs to him on a mission to Hollywood. Lucy only wrote that though she told Wyatt to go be with Jessica, that it still hurt that he chose his dead wife in the end, as if their time in Hollywood never happened. And then… Carol lets out an angry sigh… and then Lucy spread her legs for Garcia Flynn not long after the two of them kissed after surviving the sinking of the Titanic.

After that, in the journal, Lucy became unrecognizable as her daughter. She became more determined to destroy Rittenhouse, almost as if Flynn had brainwashed her into his ideology. Lucy wrote that she felt safe, protected and even loved in his arms. She wrote about how Flynn had become her best friend, the only person she felt she could trust. And worse, yet… how Flynn gave her the confidence to believe in herself again. That is the last thing that Carol wants of her daughter. If Lucy has confidence to stand up for herself, it will become harder to indoctrinate her into Rittenhouse.

Carol fears what could happen between Lucy and Flynn the longer it takes to find her and bring her back to Rittenhouse. Garcia Flynn is a threat to the very existence of the organization, and any relationship between him and Lucy is a threat to the birth of the group’s founder, David Rittenhouse. God forbid, Lucy gets pregnant by him before they can send her back to 1725 to complete her Phase Three mission.

In Lucy’s journal, the one she went back in time to give to Flynn, she wrote about how she lost their baby. She had miscarried after Flynn had died because of her grief. The pages of the journal were stained in tears. Carol assumes they were her daughter’s tears, but knew that they could have been those of Garcia Flynn as well.

And as much as Carol hates the idea of Lucy falling in love with that monster, when she read that Lucy lost a baby, her heart broke as she too, once lost a child.

Tic… Toc…

When Carol was only seventeen years old, she got pregnant by her high school sweetheart. Her mother was furious with her because the father was not a member of Rittenhouse. The Table of Elders made the decision that she had to get an abortion. At age seventeen, Carol was afraid. At that point, she had only known of Rittenhouse for two years, and she believed they were good. But her belief was shaken when she tried to fight against them as her mother brought her to the hospital to have the procedure done. Carol cried as she was given drugs to knock her out so she couldn’t fight the doctor. She screamed out in terror as the nurse inserted an IV into her arm as Rittenhouse agents strapped her down.

 

Carol mourned the loss of that child. And when she got pregnant with Lucy by Benjamin, she had been so angry with Rittenhouse – and the burden it had become in her life – that she naively thought she could give her daughter up for adoption without Rittenhouse finding out about it. All she had known was that she didn’t want her baby girl subjected to the horrors that Rittenhouse subjected onto her. She didn’t want Lucy to face an unexpected pregnancy and have Rittenhouse abort the child against her will.

 

Carol lied to herself and tried to convince herself that not keeping her daughter, not raising her as her own, was the right thing to do. She didn’t want for Lucy to suffer at the hands of Rittenhouse as she had. But as the weeks went by, and she felt Lucy growing inside her, she found she wanted to know her daughter. And when Lucy was born, she knew there was no way that she would be able to let her go.

Neither she nor Benjamin had an interest in marriage and the Table of Elders didn’t force it upon them. Carol told Benjamin that she didn’t want him in her daughter’s life, that she didn’t care that he was already in a high position at the Table of Elders. She wanted to raise Lucy on her own, as a single mother. And as a single mother, Carol knew that she would be able to protect Lucy from Rittenhouse much longer than if Benjamin played his role as her father.

Carol was told about her place in Rittenhouse when she was fifteen years old.

Lucy didn’t know about Rittenhouse until just last year.

Carol managed to raise Lucy in a way that kept Rittenhouse from interfering. She raised Lucy to follow in her footsteps, to be a historian. To be obedient and afraid to rebel against authority. To not have the confidence in herself to chase after her own goals and dreams.

Tic… Toc…

When Carol read in Lucy’s journal that she had miscarried a child, her grandchild. It didn’t matter that Garcia Flynn was the father. It broke her heart and she sobbed for hours, feeling she had failed Lucy. She stained the pages of Lucy’s journal with tears of her own. This is not the life that Carol wanted for Lucy. All she could think about was how she should have done everything in her power to save Lucy, to give her up for adoption, to get her as far away from Rittenhouse as she could.

She took a deep breath and composed herself. She knew that Rittenhouse would have never allowed that for Lucy. Lucy’s eighteenth century journal wouldn’t allow Rittenhouse to let her go, to let her be her own person. Carol understood that if she had tried to save Lucy, to get her away from Rittenhouse, that it would have been seen as a betrayal. There was no doubt in her mind that the Table of Elders would have had her executed and forced Lucy into her role as the Mother of Rittenhouse.

Both of Lucy’s journals are a record of the many ways that Rittenhouse has disrupted and destroyed Lucy’s life. How she lost her sister, Amy, because Garcia Flynn saved the Hindenburg trying to destroy Rittenhouse. How Wyatt’s desire to climb the ladder at Rittenhouse broke Lucy’s heart. How Lucy lost the one man who ever truly loved her and, in the process, lost their child in her grief. Lucy’s heartache and grief, and her sadness jumped off the pages of her journal and sunk deep into Carol’s heart.

Carol never wanted for Lucy to be so broken.

She never wanted Lucy to experience so much heartache.

The love that Lucy wrote that she had for Garcia Flynn… that’s not something anyone finds in Rittenhouse where every marriage is arranged by the Table of Elders. That’s the kind of love that Carol always wanted for her daughter. Love based in friendship, respect, trust and understanding. Within the pages of the journal, Lucy made it obvious that the feelings she had for Garcia Flynn were honest. She went from fearing him, to understanding him, working with him as his partner. They became each other’s best friend and they fell in love. They wanted to get married and live in the mountains, to raise their child together. Everything that Lucy wrote about how Flynn made her feel is the kind of love Carol could only dream of having.

Even though Carol wants Lucy to return to Rittenhouse, to take her rightful place at the end of the Table of Elders, there’s a part of her that is proud that Lucy was incapable of murdering Flynn. It feels like fate has intervened, and somehow, no matter what… that Lucy and Flynn are meant to find each other. In Emma’s fury, Carol found herself proud that Lucy helped him escape prison, and that she found the strength in herself to run away from Rittenhouse – something Carol was never able to do. But as it has been with so many others throughout history, it doesn’t matter that Lucy has run away. One day Lucy will come around because Rittenhouse is who she is. Either Lucy will come back on her own accord, or Rittenhouse will track her down.

Tic… Toc…

Despite how touched Carol is by Lucy and Flynn’s love story, she agrees that her daughter cannot get involved with him. Not if she is to go back to 1725 and return to 2017 to sit at the head of the Table of Elders.

That is Lucy’s fate.

That is her destiny.

To be Rittenhouse royalty.

Garcia Flynn plays no role in this fate.

And that is why Carol suggested that Lucy’s Phase Two assignment – her loyalty test – be to kill Flynn in prison. She wanted Lucy to face him when he’s fighting for his life. She wanted Flynn to hurt her daughter before she could kill him. While Carol believed that Lucy is capable of murdering the man, she also knew that it was possible that in the moment that Lucy might not be able to do it. If that was the case, all Carol wanted was to ensure that Garcia Flynn physically hurt her daughter so badly that Lucy would fear him and never develop feelings for him in the first place.

To never fall in love with him.

Carol looks down at the ring on her finger, the same ring Lucy wore to prison as Mrs. Garcia Flynn, and somehow… somehow she doubts that she succeeded in tearing her daughter away from the man she’s destined to love.

Sometimes fate has the final say.

Tic… Toc…

Carol takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

Tic… Toc…

Emma was right… Carol should have known not to trust Lucy.

Emma was the one who gave orders for their field agents to try to kill Lucy this morning.

Emma was right.

Lucy betrayed Rittenhouse the moment she helped Flynn escape prison. Carol has seen the surveillance video. Lucy ran out of the visitation unit and waited for Flynn in John’s car. She opened the door and started the engine for him before he even sat in the driver’s seat.

Emma was right.

Lucy betrayed Rittenhouse.

And maybe Emma is right to want to kill her, but Carol knows that the Table of Elders won’t allow that. They won’t allow it until the birth of David Rittenhouse is ensured. And to do that, they need to send Lucy back to 1725 to meet with his father, Byron Rittenhouse. It is what was written nearly three-hundred years ago. That is fate. That is destiny. This is what Lucy needs to do for Rittenhouse. After that, her fate will be decided by the Table of Elders.

Carol looks at the ring again. It sparkles in the dim light of her office as the grandfather clock strikes midnight. Carol closes her eyes and counts each of the twelve chimes of midnight.

The fact that Lucy removed this ring and left it behind so carelessly on the ground outside a gas station tells her that Lucy thinks that her own mother gave the order to kill her this morning. When the truth is that Carol would do anything to protect her daughter. She loves her.

If only there was a way that she could reach out to Lucy.

If only they had implanted a GPS tracking chip on her body.

If they had done that, she’d be able to track her down and have her back home by tomorrow.

Lucy and Flynn can’t have traveled too far since this morning’s hotel shootout and car chase.

Emma’s orders to kill them both must have alerted Lucy to the fact that she was being tracked. Emma, despite being on her perpetual high horse, had fucked up in this regard.

Emma doesn’t always agree with the way things are in Rittenhouse, and the way things have always been, but despite that the majority of the Table of Elders holds Emma in high regard. They see her as someone with potential to enter into a marriage with a pure blood member. If Carol had the only say in this – despite Emma being their only time machine pilot – she would sign the execution order for Emma Whitmore herself.

Tears sting Carol’s eyes as she looks up at the two-hundred forty year old oak grandfather clock. David Rittenhouse, one of her great grandfathers, designed and built the clock himself just before his death in 1780. The Rittenhouse mansion had been abandoned after his death, and only when his son, John, reemerged as John Keynes, did every possession in the mansion fall back into the hands of Rittenhouse. The clock has been handed down from generation to generation and one day Lucy is to inherit it as well.

Carol wants for Lucy to be safe, to come back to her. She wants to travel through time with Lucy. She had hoped she would have been with her when she and Emma went back to 1918 to retrieve Nicholas Keynes earlier today. But she wasn’t. Instead, Lucy is on the run with Garcia Flynn.

Carol wipes a tear from her eye and stands up.

She walks out of her residence quarters and her heels echo down the hallway as she makes her way towards the room where her grandfather, Nicholas Keynes, is resting.

She quietly opens the door and closes it behind her. She walks toward her younger grandfather. His eyes flutter open, sensing that he’s no longer alone.

“I’m happy to see you’re awake.” She says. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

Nicholas Keynes lies still on the bed as he raises his hands and looks at them.

“Where am I?” He asks.

“You’re with Rittenhouse. In the year twenty-seventeen.” She pauses so that information can sink in. “You were right about time travel. It’s possible. We commissioned a time machine. It’s all come to pass. And now we’ve got work to do.”

Carol sits down on the side of his bed, looking down on a man she had never met, but had been told about since she was a little girl as she sat on her grandmother’s lap.

“And who are you?”

“I’m your granddaughter.”

Nicholas looks at her without blinking, his lip curls with satisfaction that everything he had envisioned for Rittenhouse, everything he wrote in his manifesto – which his Elders had mocked – has come to pass. And though he’s not pleased that it seems his granddaughter, a woman, has significant authority in this 2017 version of Rittenhouse, he knows that now he’ll be able to shape the past so that Rittenhouse will become everything he envisioned in the future.

He wants for Rittenhouse to rule the world. To create the perfect society, and to do so by altering history, to bend it in their favor.

\-----

Carol shuts the door behind her as she walks out of Nicholas Keynes’s room. It’s just past two in the morning and they talked about what Rittenhouse has been able to accomplish with the Mothership since regaining control over it with the help of Emma Whitmore.

Carol told him about Lucy and how she played a role in helping Garcia Flynn, their enemy, break out of prison. She told him about Flynn, how he discovered Rittenhouse funding a time travel project and how she had ordered the execution of him and his family. How he managed to escape and going into hiding for a couple years before raiding Mason Industries and stealing the Mothership from Rittenhouse, and how he rampaged through time trying to destroy them.

Nicholas wasn’t pleased to learn that his great granddaughter played a role in the arrests of nearly two-hundred and fifty members of Rittenhouse and asked what was being done about her. He expressed a desire to execute her as well for her betrayal.

Carol told him that they are currently trying to track her down to bring her back and that she still needs to speak with Emma and the Table of Elders about what punishment Lucy would face once she was brought home, and that it shouldn’t be death.

Nicholas looked at her with confusion. In his day, women were punished more harshly than men for betraying Rittenhouse, even if they were considered royalty. She explained to him that Lucy was confused, lost. That she had failed her loyalty test – to kill an enemy of Rittenhouse. She told her younger grandfather not to worry because they had a couple dozen field agents on the ground in Nevada hunting down Lucy and Garcia Flynn.

Carol makes her way back down the hallway toward her residence.

Had Lucy always intended to betray her? Had Lucy planned how she might be able to get out from under the microscope of Rittenhouse in order to steal herself time alone with Garcia Flynn? Had she always wanted to join forces with him to destroy Rittenhouse? Had she agreed with Rittenhouse and feigned buying into their ideology as a ruse?

It frightens her that her younger grandfather expressed a desire to kill Lucy.

It frightens her because now that he is here in 2017, the Table of Elders has agreed that he now leads the organization into the future. Whatever Nicholas says will come to pass. If Nicholas orders Lucy dead, then she will be killed. There will be no fighting against his decisions.

Carol turns around when she hears Emma clear her throat.

“You look lost in thought.” Emma says. “How’s your grandfather doing?”

“Much better than when we arrived, but still at least a couple weeks away from full recovery.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Emma and Carol stare at each other, neither woman necessarily liking the other.

“I’m still surprised that Flynn didn’t kill more of our agents.” Emma says.

“With only one fatality, I think it’s safe to assume that Lucy has him wrapped around her little finger. Perhaps it was too presumptuous of you to give orders to kill her.” Carol narrows her eyes. “Lucy could be trying to lure him to us. We haven’t discussed it much, but Flynn could have information that could be of value to us.”

“Such as?” Emma raises her brow. She doesn’t believe that for a second. She had spent time with Flynn. All the information he had is in the journal Lucy gave him. The journal which is now in possession of Rittenhouse. Carol can’t answer. “That’s what I thought.”

“For what it’s worth, Emma, I believe in my daughter. I know even I expected her to be able to kill Flynn, but I should have known that I was wrong. She’s not a murderer.”

“Perhaps we should have sent her back to Byron sooner.” Emma smirks. “Get that ball rolling immediately instead of wasting time breaking her down and building her back up just so she could betray us.”

“Lucy needed to accept Rittenhouse in her life-”

“For her 1725 mission?” Emma is disgusted with Carol’s blind support of her daughter. “No. Lucy could’ve been handed over to Byron and everything would have fallen into place. But instead, Lucy helped break Flynn out of prison and they’re on the run. The only good thing in all of this is the fact they don’t have a time machine and can’t stop us.”

Emma narrows her eyes as she looks at the older woman. She’s not impressed with Carol, never has been. She thinks that Carol’s love for her daughter is a weakness that Lucy can exploit. She fears that Lucy could be the downfall of Rittenhouse and the sooner Carol is removed from power, the sooner Lucy ceases to be a threat to the organization.

But she can’t just kill Carol right here and now.

No.

Two-hundred and fifty members of Rittenhouse were arrested, but the FBI and Homeland could never touch anyone with a seat at the Table of Elders. Even Emma doesn’t know everyone in the highest of power. She only knows that Carol Preston holds a seat. A seat that Princess Lucy is expected to inherit one day. And for the small, rebellious group of Rittenhouse members like herself, it is important to eliminate Lucy from the equation.

To kill her.

“I’ve been thinking about how we might lure Lucy away from Flynn.” Emma says.

“If Lucy’s turned against us, I’m not sure she’ll come back. She’s stubborn, just like her father-”

“Wyatt Logan.” Emma interrupts, impatient.

“Him? He’s reckless and unreliable, I’d rather not get him involved when it comes to my daughter.” Carol says and walks away.

“Like you, I’ve read Lucy’s little diary. She was falling in love with him. If she finds out that he didn’t die in the explosion, she very well might run back to him. And if she’s with Wyatt then he can keep her under control. It would keep her from falling for Flynn which I _know_ you don’t want since that would make our plans for Lucy a touch more difficult to-”

“Wyatt’s been unreliable ever since he was demoted two years ago. Do you really think that he’d be able to control himself with Lucy?”

“All I know is that if your daughter spreads her legs to Logan that she won’t be working with Flynn to destroy us, and isn’t that what you want?” Emma asks. “We can order Wyatt to regain Lucy’s trust. Denise’s team fixed their Lifeboat. They can follow us through time again. All we have to do is get Lucy to trust Wyatt, we jump to 1725 and give him orders to bring her to Byron. It’s as simple as that.”

“And what about Garcia Flynn?”

“Once we find Lucy, we find Flynn, and we kill him. We know that he’s in love with her, and that he’s stupid enough to stand in the way if we threatened to kill her.” Emma smiles. “We threaten Lucy when we find her, he stands in the way, and we kill him.” She gives Carol a condescending look. “It’s as easy as that.”

\-----

> _… and I find myself wondering what would Wyatt think? Wyatt only saw Garcia as his enemy. A murderer and a terrorist. As a man that needed to be killed no matter the cost to save America. Wyatt was a reckless hothead with a problem with authority, a problem with my calling the shots, but when it came to his orders regarding Garcia, he stuck with them even after he was made aware that Garcia was on the right side. Even after he understood that Rittenhouse was the bad guy. I’ll never understand his dedication to wanting to kill Garcia even after that. Maybe Wyatt’s hatred of Garcia lay in the fact that I came to trust him. Maybe Wyatt was jealous that I chose to listen to Garcia and wanted to help him. I don’t know and I’ll never know since Wyatt is dead._
> 
> _I can’t even imagine the lectures I’d be getting if Wyatt could see me now. I’m sitting in the bed of a truck we stole this morning, in the middle of the New Mexico desert. Garcia is tending to a campfire he started to help keep us warm overnight. We haven’t said much to each other today after everything that happened. I think we’re both recovering from the shock of it all. At the prison, Garcia stripped his clothes off in front of me, wanting me to see the bruises and scars he had endured. Today I stripped down to nothing but my underwear to allow Garcia to wash a stranger’s blood from my body. I stripped again so that he could thoroughly check my naked body for a GPS implant._
> 
> _If in death Wyatt can hear my thoughts and know my feelings, he knows that I want Garcia. I want to know everything there is to know about him. I want us to become the “quite the team” that he spoke about at the National in 1972. I enjoy talking to him, learning about his life, learning about his wife Lorena and his daughter, Iris. And I think he enjoys learning things about me that weren’t in the original journal. If Wyatt can know my thoughts, he probably thinks that I’m crazy, and sometimes I wonder that myself, but… it is kind of insane that he is the easiest person for me to talk to. We both lost our families to Rittenhouse, and we’re both alone. And sharing that same grief… that grief has brought us closer together, and…_
> 
> _Everything that’s happened between Garcia and me has felt natural. I don’t know how to explain it. We were enemies only a few months ago. I used to be afraid of him. And now it seems all I look forward to is our next conversation, or finding an excuse to fall asleep in his arms at night. I love the way that he touches me. The way that he seems almost afraid to kiss me. He’ll kiss me on the top of my head or my forehead, but nothing more. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his breath on the back of my neck as he tells me it’s been a long time since he’s felt this way for anyone and how he doesn’t want to rush things between us._
> 
> _For me, this is different. If there was any aspect of my life that I could control it was my love life. I rebelled against my mother by throwing myself at men. Mom never approved, but that was the point of my promiscuity. I was never one to say “hey, let’s take things slow,” but with Garcia – as much as I want him and he wants me – it’s right to not jump into things too quickly. This isn’t a relationship that means nothing. It could mean everything. And I absolutely do not want to mess this up._
> 
> _I thought what I felt for Wyatt was love, but I was wrong. Wyatt was a soldier. I was his assignment. He was meant to protect me on our time missions. I was incapable of protecting myself in the beginning. I was a damn damsel in distress and Wyatt was there to protect me. It was only natural that I grew to have feelings for him. Feelings that I mistook as love._
> 
> _Of course, I cared about Wyatt and we spoke of possibilities between us, but looking back… looking back Wyatt was just a stepping stone in my own growing up. The possibilities we spoke of… those possibilities were more about me learning that it’s ok to let go of my past. To walk away from the hold my mother had on me. To do as Amy said… to make my own future._
> 
> _Before Wyatt, I never did what I wanted. And besides joining a band and meaning to ditch the history thing, I always did what was expected of me. I followed in my mother’s footsteps. I took her advice about men I dated. Garcia said that Rittenhouse was looking into bringing Noah into their group, so I imagine that I said “yes” to his marriage proposal because my mom approved of him. I was so afraid of being seen as a failure that I lost myself, and only now am I free to discover who I really am._

Lucy looks up from writing in a black leather-bound journal that she stole from a convenience store earlier. She rests her eyes on the shadows dancing across Garcia’s bare back as he strips his black t-shirt from his body. He takes a bottle of water and wets a hand towel and uses it to bathe himself.

They had stopped at a cheap motel not long after stealing this truck. He wanted for Lucy to get properly washed up and changed into clean clothes. She showered and checked herself for any scars that would indicate that her mother had a GPS chip implanted in her. She found nothing. When she told Garcia, he had blushed, knowing exactly where she had to touch herself to make sure she wasn’t being tracked.

Lucy shivers and pulls Garcia’s grey hoodie over the front of her chest. She second-guesses her decision to wear her pink terry cloth pajama shorts. Although this afternoon, temperatures were warm, nighttime in the New Mexico desert is cold. She watches Garcia as he reaches over to get his shirt, and even with the distance between them, and the warm light of the fire, she can see the bruises all over his back. This whole time he’s been so concerned with her well-being that he hasn’t acknowledged his own pain. Lucy inhales and begins writing again.

> _I’m looking at you now, Garcia. And my heart is breaking as I see all the bruises you endured while you were in prison. I know that you love me and I want you to be able to talk to me about your pain, and your grief. You told me that whenever I’m ready to tell you about what happened to me at Rittenhouse that you are here for me, and I so badly want to tell you so that you can help me heal, but… I want you to have the same trust in me. I want you to feel comfortable showing me your vulnerability, your weakness, and your tears. I’m falling in love with you, and I want to take care of you just as you take care of me._
> 
> _I trust you._
> 
> _I trust you more than anyone I’ve ever known._
> 
> _With you, everything is different. The way I feel for you is… I don’t know how to describe it, but I think you feel it too. I feel your love in the way you touch me, how you take care of me, the way you speak to me, have confidence in me when I doubt myself. I love how you find reasons to kiss me on the top of my head, or wrap your arm across my shoulder. I love that without asking, you knew how to help me when I began having a panic attack in that gas station bathroom._
> 
> _If we only had a sexual attraction to each other, something would have happened between us already, but it hasn’t. Both times I stood in front of you naked, you looked away. You respected me. Your eyes always asking for my consent if you need to touch me. Words cannot express to you how erotic it was to feel your hands on my body, knowing that both of us want more. And not just sex, and you should know that just the thought of your body pressed against mine is enough to arouse me – we want friendship, we want trust. I want to know everything about you. Your childhood, living in Croatia, your time with the military, the story behind your scars. I want to know which books you’ve read, which ones you hated and which ones you’ve memorized. Why don’t you like watching TV or movies? Do you think in English or in Croatian, or maybe in another language that you know?_
> 
> _I want you to love me enough to feel comfortable telling me how much you love Lorena and Iris, and for you to know that it doesn’t make me uncomfortable or jealous to hear you talk about them to me. I want to know them too. I want to love them since they are-_

Lucy pauses as she realizes she wants to write “I want to love them since they are my family too.” She blinks back tears and looks toward Garcia. He’s a silhouette, staring into the flames of the fire, lost in thought. She wonders what he’s thinking about. He knows that she’s writing in this new journal and perhaps he’s keeping his distance from her so that he can’t influence what she writes. She wants to join him. She wants to sit next to him and rest her head on his shoulder and hold his hand. She wants to find a way to tell him what they did to her when she was held at Rittenhouse.

But at the same time, it’s almost too horrific for her to say aloud. So, she takes a deep breath and continues writing.

> _… my family too. I want to love your girls just as much as you love them. I want to know your most embarrassing story as well as what breaks your heart. I want to know what makes you laugh. I want to be your strength just as you have become mine. I want us to be able to finish each other’s sentences, know each other’s thoughts. To have an entire conversation by just looking at one another._
> 
> _Everything I want with you is how I know that the feelings I have mean something more. This is how I know that I’m falling in love with you. Or maybe I’m already in love with you and don’t know how to process that. Is it possible to fall in love this quickly? I don’t know. I only know how I feel. I know that I want to explore these feelings and see where they lead us. If they lead us to heartache, that’s ok, at least we tried. But if they lead us to a beautiful ranch in Montana with children of our own… Garcia… it’ll make everything we’ve been through worth it because we found each other._
> 
> _Hope._
> 
> _Maybe fighting this war together will save the ones we love._
> 
> _I don’t know if I’ll ever need to go back in time to give you this journal. I’m not even sure if we’ll ever find a way to travel through time again so, I suppose that one day I’ll give this to you to read in the present._
> 
> _If you are reading this in 2014 then… Garcia, moja ljubav… I know you lost your girls, and I understand that reading this is upsetting. I know that right now you can’t imagine loving anyone again. I know that my words anger you, but I need you to know that despite everything that there’s still hope. I want you to know that you have a choice. You can throw this journal in the trash and walk away, or you can do things differently. You alone, or you and I together, can make our own future._
> 
> _I want to pretend that I’m ok when I’m with you, but I’m not. I’m pretty sure you know this as I don’t hide it well. I want to tell you. I want you to hear it from me that I’m broken. As much as your arms comfort me, and your kisses make me feel loved, there’s still so much you don’t know about why I’ve become the way that I am. Specifically, what Rittenhouse did to me. I need for you to know that Rittenhouse hurt me in ways that you never have and never could._
> 
> _This morning I felt you touch the bruise on my arm. The bruise that you gave me when I came to visit you. It doesn’t hurt me. The way you held my neck to intimidate me… at Rittenhouse, Caleb grabbed my neck so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I was gasping for air, certain that he was going to kill me. And my mother just stood there behind him, allowing him to choke me. Telling me that if I didn’t conform to Rittenhouse that it would be out of her control to stop them from taking my life. There’s so much more I want to get off my chest, Garcia. But I’m too afraid to write about it here. Rittenhouse has my journal, and I don’t want to say too much in here in case they get their hands on it too. But I want to tell you everything. I need you to know what they did to me so that you understand why I am the way that I am._
> 
> _I just… I need to find a way to talk to you about this. What I want to tell you isn’t easy to hear and not something I could just casually bring up. And the sooner I can talk about what happened, the sooner I can heal. And I want to put it behind me. I want to talk about it so that I can move on._

Lucy shuts the journal and sets it down on the pillow next to her. She looks at Garcia, he’s poking the fire with a stick to help keep it going. Lucy crawls to the end of the tailgate and hops off. She zips up his hoodie to help keep her warm as she makes her way towards him.

“Hey.” She says as she sits down next to him.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were writing.” He smiles. “Gave me time to think… I think that you’re writing a new journal for me in case one day you have to go back in time and give it to me. My mother… she’s an engineer, a physicist and… if she can figure out how to bend the gravitational field back on itself to create a loop where-”

Lucy laughs and touches his arm.

“What?” He smiles as he laughs.

“Did you have Mason Industries bugged before you stole the Mothership?”

“No. Why?”

“You’re using keywords that Mason used when he explained time travel to me and Wyatt, that’s all.”

“I was in contact with Anthony for nearly two years before I stole it. I asked a lot of questions. I needed to understand how it worked.” He pauses and tilts his head back and looks up at the night sky. “You mentioned Wyatt… do you need to talk about him?”

“Not really.”

“Lucy, I know how you felt about him, and despite what is happening between us… it’s ok if you need or want to talk about him. I understand. He was your friend.”

Lucy lowers her eyes.

“But was he really my friend?” She asks.

Garcia raises his brow but stays silent so he doesn’t break her train of thought.

“I mean, I only knew him for three months before Rittenhouse kidnapped me. I saw him only a few times outside of Mason Industries. All I know about him is that he was Delta Force, was willing to risk my life and Rufus’s to try to kill you. He was obsessed with the idea of using the Lifeboat to go back to save his wife, and when he thought he had nothing left to return to in the present, he was willing to die at the Alamo.

“You love him though.”

“Do I?”

Garcia looks at her. He didn’t expect that response.

“Can you really fall in love with someone without knowing who they are?”

“My parents fell in love and were married four months after they met. It’s not out of the question.” He answers.

“But did they know each other?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did your mother know your father’s favorite passages from books? Did he know your mother’s greatest heartache? Middle names? Could they talk to each other about anything? Was their love built from commonalities, and mutual trust and respect?”

It’s not lost on Garcia that Lucy is hinting at the pace that their relationship has been developing over the past few days.

“I know when I was a kid that they would stay up late at night, just talking and laughing.” He looks at Lucy, holding her gaze. “I also know that he was there for her when she’d cry herself to sleep because she lost my brother.” He wets his lips and pokes the stick into the fire in front of them. “They were there for each other. I know that much.”

Lucy runs her hand through Garcia’s hair, “I trusted Wyatt enough to get me back home safely, but… he wasn’t exactly someone I felt comfortable talking to. When we were in Germany, I… I opened up to him, but it felt nothing like when I’ve talked to you. I know he was trying to make me feel better, but I felt he was judging me. Judging me for not being able to be tough and strong like he was, for… not already being over the hump. He told me that the only way to get over the hump was to talk about what’s bothering me. And that’s true… and I’ve always struggled opening up to others. And it didn’t help that afterward, Wyatt still made me feel like I was weak and how I couldn’t do this job. And I started to believe it. I doubted myself, and when I started listening to you, believing in your and your fight against Rittenhouse… he was even more resistant to my ideas. When I stopped you from blowing up the summit in 1954… you have no idea how scared I was that Wyatt wasn’t going to listen to me… but I believed in you…”

“Wyatt wasn’t wrong when he told you that it helps to talk about what’s bothering you, and I’m sure that he didn’t mean for you to feel judged or to feel weak because he was your protector.”

Lucy sighs and shakes her head, “I found myself feeling less in control on our missions. I gave in to him, letting him make decisions for the team. Like, after I escaped you in Chicago, when I thought Wyatt would’ve been so worried about losing me to you… because I thought that he and I were headed towards…” She sighs with a heavy heart. “… possibilities… he and Rufus left me alone and I got…” She trails off, not wanting to make Garcia feel guilty about how she got taken by H.H. Holmes.

“Taken by H. H. Holmes.” Garcia finishes her sentence.

Lucy looks at him surprised that he knows about that.

“It was in your journal, Lucy. And the only reason I didn’t come save you myself is because I still believed in the journal, maybe not one-hundred percent after we found out that Rittenhouse was one man, but enough to believe that Rufus and Wyatt would find you and save you before Holmes could… Also… I didn’t think that you wanted me to come to your rescue.”

“Back then… I didn’t.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“But the time I did spend with you on that trip did help me see you differently, you know.”

“I know.” He smiles.

“When I was on stage with Houdini, I saw you smiling at me.”

“And you smiled at me.”

“I did, and tried to hide it.”

“Poorly.” He nudges her with his arm. “But did you see Karl scowling?”

“I saw he stood near the exit of the tent. I figured he thought I’d try to make a run for it… as if I could get back to the Mothership and leave you two behind.”

“Karl didn’t… he didn’t trust you, Lucy, and I do apologize about him in Paris.”

“It’s all good. Rufus told me he received the Hemingway hook. That was payback enough for how he manhandled me.”

“He didn’t shut up about that, or how Houdini knocked him out. Sometimes I think his tendency to get beat up by historical figures is why he ditched my team.” Garcia chuckles. “Karl grew to hate time travel. He wasn’t impressed with it to begin with, but near the end he was all – and excuse my language – fuck this and fuck that while sucking on a cigarette.”

“How did you meet him?”

“In Afghanistan in two-thousand one. He asked if I had a lighter.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, back then I did.”

“I never smoked cigarettes, but I did try weed in college.”

“With Jake?  Your lead singer boyfriend?”

“No. With Sara. Who used her high to tell me all about blow jobs while demonstrating on a banana.” Lucy shakes her head. “I experienced an anxiety attack and thought Jake was stalking me. This was after we broke up and he had a hard time letting go. I kept telling Sara over and over that Jake was hiding under my bed and in my closet, at the same time.” Lucy smiles and looks at Garcia who looks at her in disbelief. “I woke up the next day, naked in bed with Sara. Apparently, I have no recollection of my only lesbian experience.”

“I have no idea what to say.” He rubs his chin and grins at her. “I never tried weed… I feel like I need to share some equally strange story of my own…” He trails off. “Well… to relate to earlier today…”

“Earlier today when? Losing your balance while getting dressed or the car chase or… checking me over for a GPS implant?” Lucy says this and feels warmth spread over her body as she inches closer to him. She wouldn’t mind feeling his hands on her again now that they seem to be out of immediate danger. And after over twelve hours on the road to get to the middle of nowhere, Chihuahuan Desert, New Mexico, she really would not mind a little further exploration of the feelings the two have for each other. She settles next to him and drapes wraps her arm around his back.

“Earlier today when… when you had to run around in your…” He’s shy and hesitates to say, “… in your under garments.”

“I grew up spending summers on the beach in a bikini, Garcia. Running around in my bra and panties isn’t mortifying.” She sighs and rests her head on his shoulder.

“Once, when I was on a top-secret mission for the NSA in Azerbaijan, I got into this knife fight and… my opponent wound up slashing the leg of my pants. In my escape, a loose part of the pants got stuck in a door and I had to take them off.” Garcia looks down when he feels Lucy raise her head from his shoulder. He sees she’s trying her best not to laugh. “Anyway, imagine me,” he chuckles, “all one-hundred and ninety-three centimeters of me, running through the streets of Baku without pants. Just me, my skin-tight black mock-turtleneck, and black boxer briefs.”

“Were you being shot at? Chased?”

“After I lost my pants? No.”

“Not the same as what I went through this morning.” Lucy laughs.

“It’s almost the same.” He argues.

“Nope. It’s not.” She reconsiders. “Was it day or night?”

“Night.”

“So, your um… assets were concealed not only by your underwear, but also the darkness of night?”

“Yes.” He nods his head.

“Then it’s not the same. I was in a white bra and panties… in broad daylight, being shot at.”

“I took a bullet to the arm today.” He says, pointing at his bandaged arm.

Lucy tightens her lips. She doesn’t want to make light of the fact that this man is more than willing to stand between she and the business end of guns. She lifts herself up and places a soft kiss on his cheek, a silent thank you for everything he’s done for her today.

“So… your work with the NSA…” She wants to lower herself to rest her head in his lap, but decides that might be too intimate for them right now so, she doesn’t. “… was that espionage or…?”

“Something like that.” He winks. “Most of the time the work I did for the NSA was boring. Sitting around and listening in on phone conversations, doing translations of phone conversations. Nothing really interesting happened. That Baku job though… it was a last-minute thing, and I happened to be in the area, on vacation no less, and…” He shakes his head. “Back then, I was young and dumb, and willing to jump at any opportunity to gain experience in the field so I left Lorena at the hotel, didn’t wake her up. I snuck into the place and figured that I’d easily be able to slip out undetected. Leave the goods I was asked to deliver at the Dead Drop… my NSA handler assured me that she wouldn’t be home and-”

“She?” Lucy playfully punches his shoulder. “Was your knife-wielding assailant a she?”

“She almost got the better of me too.” He shakes his head. “She was a much better fighter than I was.”

“Please. Tell me she was four-foot five or shorter.” Lucy laughs imagining Garcia getting bested by someone half his height.

“One-hundred sixty centimeters…” He does the math in his head, “… that’s about five-foot three.” He sees that Lucy is covering her mouth and unsuccessfully hiding her laughter. “Hey, don’t laugh. Afsana was a good fighter.”

“It’s not that, it’s… I’m imagining you being beat by someone shorter than myself.” Lucy snorts in an attempt to stop laughing.

“It wasn’t the last time a shorter woman got the best of me.”

“Oh?” Lucy laughs.

“Your escape from the Castle Varlar… somehow you managed to get back from 1754 before I could come back and get you… plotting my demise with Houdini under my nose, the Cutpurse… setting me up to face off with Rittenhouse in seventy-two…”

“Don’t.” She whispers.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t blame me for your arrest.”

“I don’t.”

“Your actions back at the prison say otherwise.”

Garcia sighs. “Lucy… I… I wanted someone to blame for that. And you were the one that suggested we meet and… the shock of it… and what it meant for Lorena and Iris…”

“I tried to talk to Agent Christopher about it. I wanted you to be able to save your family, but Christopher, she…” Lucy doesn’t finish her thought. “… and now that we think she’s Rittenhouse, her actions make sense.” Lucy sits up and faces him. “At Rittenhouse, Emma and my mother were obsessed with you. They were pleased that you were locked away, but still wanted to kill you as soon as they could. Even pulling strings with the judge to execute you sooner wasn’t enough for them. That’s why my mom decided that my loyalty test was to kill you… and now Rittenhouse won’t stop until we’re both dead.” Lucy covers her face with her hands. “I get so angry I could scream.”

“Homeland requested that I be locked away, alone. Solitary confinement. The warden didn’t agree with that request but honored it as best he could. Locked me away in a cell block in the basement that hadn’t been used in years. I was alone. And Lucy, screaming into a void can be therapeutic. So, if you need to, you go ahead and scream. It’s ok.”

Lucy nods her head, but doesn’t scream. The conversation has made its way back to what she wants to talk about, only she has no idea how to segue what she just told him to what Rittenhouse did to her while she was their prisoner. She closes her eyes and decides that perhaps tonight is not the right time to open up to him about that. She takes a deep breath and figures talking about the journal is easier.

“I was thinking that maybe you could… I don’t know… I mean, you memorized the original journal and if you think any of it is pertinent to our cause, you know… in case we, I mean, in case I have to go back and give it to you-”

“Are you asking me to help write this journal?” He asks.

She nods her head, knowing that if he agrees to this that he’ll be able to read what she has already written. And none of what she wrote tonight is important to taking down Rittenhouse. 

“No secrets between us?” He asks carefully, furrowing his brow. He knows that if they’re both writing in the journal that means they can’t conceal anything from each other.

Lucy nods her head again.

“Garcia…” She takes hold of his hand. “… after everything we’ve been through today, I know that… that there are feelings between us that we can’t ignore.” She turns to look up at him, to gauge his reaction. He stares into the fire. “I know these feelings developed quickly, and that scares me, but it… it doesn’t feel wrong.”

Lucy’s put her heart on the line here. Earlier, he admitted his feelings for her and she didn’t respond because she was distressed and scared that Rittenhouse was going to find them and kill them. But now that they’ve spent over twelve hours on the road – most of that time in complete silence – and she’s been able to organize her thoughts and her feelings for him in a journal. She knows that her feelings for him aren’t trivial, they’re real. And she wants him to know, needs him to understand that she’s falling in love with him too.

Garcia’s been quiet too long.

“Hey…” She whispers.

She starts to gently rub his back, but stops when he flinches at her touch. She removes her hand, and her heart aches, believing that maybe he’s rejecting her. She’s become so used to rejection and not living up to what is expected of her.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” He lowers his head and her heart sinks. He looks at her and sees sadness as she holds her hands out in front of her, trying to pretend that he didn’t flinch at her touch. He shakes his head and touches her arm. “It’s not you, draga.” He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “The… the bruises… I’m a tough guy, but some are pretty bad.”

Lucy looks up at him with soft eyes but she doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know if his saying this means that he might want her to touch him more carefully.

“Can I ask how… how it happened?” She speaks in a hush. “Your bruises…”

“Only if you promise not to blame yourself.”

He takes hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips. He kisses her knuckles. Lucy inches closer to him and even though she wants to gently rub his back to soothe him, she doesn’t.

“Most of my time in prison was spent alone, Lucy. It wasn’t solitary confinement, but Agent Christopher convinced the judge that I be kept out of the general prison population. I was locked up in an abandoned cell block in the basement. And the guards… most of them would’ve been happy to put a bullet through my head themselves.” He looks at Lucy and their eyes meet. He licks his bottom lip and continues. “I never fought back, Lucy. I… I didn’t want to give them any reason to treat me poorly. But… on the third day… I was in the shower and three guards cornered me and beat me so badly that I had to stay two nights in the prison medical center.”

Lucy looks away from him, staring into the embers of the fire.

“I was lucky that nothing was broken and that I didn’t get a concussion. But the bruises remained for weeks, and the guards made sure that they never fully disappeared. And I never fought back, Lucy… they slammed my head against brick walls. Hit me hard enough with their batons to bring me to my knees.” He shakes his head. “Pissed on me… spat on me, called me a terrorist. Even threatened to kill me, to rape me and make me suck-”

He stops himself when he feels Lucy let go of his hand to wipe a tear from her face.

“That never should have happened to you, Garcia.” She looks at him with tears in her eyes. “I should have fought Agent Christopher harder. I should have fought for you, but I was too… I was too excited about the fact that they were going to let me go back and save Amy that…” She lowers her gaze and takes hold of his hand. She kisses his knuckles and rubs her cheek on the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with-”

“You’re not a burden, Garcia. I… I want us to be able to share these things with each other.”

“Not if it upsets you.”

“Yes. Even if what we have to say is upsetting. Being able to talk about what we’ve been through is… it’s important. It can help you… it can help me...” Her eyes plead with him as her face twists with her own anguish and pain. “I need help.” She cries as the world crashes around her.

His face contorts as he feels her pain. He moves to wrap his arm around her shoulders. He’s taken aback when she moves away from him. She turns to him, wiping tears from her face and she takes a deep breath.

“I want… I want to…” She shakes her head unsure if she should say this. She wanted for him to unleash his pain on her tonight. She feels selfish for wanting to tell him what she experienced while she was held at Rittenhouse. “No…” She shakes her head violently. “No… no… this isn’t about me.”

“Lucy…”

“No.”

She stands up and he follows, placing his hand on her back before she loses her balance and falls backward toward the fire. She pushes away from him and walks quickly back to the truck and sits on its tailgate. He follows her. He knows that whatever this is that it must be about what she experienced at Rittenhouse. The reason why she triggers when he touches her neck, the reason why the first night in the hotel she asked him to sleep next to her. He stands in front of her now and points next to her on the tailgate, asking if he can sit beside her. She nods her head to let him know it’s all right.

“In prison… were you raped?” She asks as her breathing quickens.

“No.”

They sit on the end of the tailgate in silence. A gentle breeze rustles nearby shrubs as the embers from their dying fire fade. In the far distance a wolf howls as nearby a small rodent or lizard scurries by. Garcia can hear Lucy breathing. She inhales deeply and exhales slowly. However long it’s been since she asked him if he was raped has allowed him to wonder if it happened to her. He refuses to believe that Lucy’s mother would allow such a thing to happen to her daughter. But Lucy asked him if it happened to him, he told her it didn’t and she’s been quiet ever since.

“Were you raped…?” His voice cracks, expecting the worst.

Lucy shakes her head. “I can’t…” She starts, turning slightly to face him. “I… I don’t want to be touched. I just…” Her voice breaks, “… I need you to listen… if I need you… let me… let me initiate contact.”

Garcia’s heart stops. Whatever she’s about to say is going to hurt.

_I’m going to kill every last one of them._

He looks Lucy in the eye and resists every urge to reach out and give her hand a supportive squeeze. He nods his head so she knows that she can trust him. That he will listen to her and not touch her unless she initiates contact.

“I went to see my mom after Agent Christopher said I could go back and save my sister. I didn’t know what saving Amy would do to the timeline, if I would return and my mother would be sick again and I wanted to tell her the truth. I told her that time travel is real, and that I had a sister and when I came back from the Hindenburg that she was gone. And that…” Lucy chokes up but maintains her composure, “… that Amy was my best friend.”

Lucy looks to Garcia and sees fear in his eyes. He knows that something bad is coming and is trying to brace himself for impact. Lucy closes her eyes and continues.

“I told my mom that she had been sick and that I wanted to tell her I loved her in case I came back and had lost her again. She told me that Rittenhouse would never allow it, and that she had met my father through Rittenhouse, and that I… that I’m Rittenhouse royalty, a direct descendant of David Rittenhouse himself.”

Garcia blinks at this revelation. This he did not know. It wasn’t in her journal.

“You said that in my journal I wrote that we tracked down David Rittenhouse’s parents so we could prevent them from meeting so he could never be born?”

Garcia nods his head.

“I guess that the Lucy who wrote that journal didn’t know the truth.”

Garcia narrows his eyes, “what truth?”

Lucy swallows. “When Rittenhouse brings in a new member there are three phases that member has to go through to prove their loyalty to Rittenhouse. Phase One is considered the ‘breaking in period,’ where…” Lucy squeezes her eyes shut as a tear unexpectedly falls down her face. “I want to… I want to tell you this as quickly as I can, but…”

Garcia’s fingers twitch as he stops himself from reaching out to her, to touch her and let her know he’s here for her, no matter how long this takes.

“Only tell me what you’re comfortable telling me, Lucy. It’s ok.”

Lucy looks at him with intensity as she struggles to decide how much to tell him. She can keep it basic or she can pour her heart out to him.

“The first three nights, I was given a room, much like a hotel, to stay in. My mother visited me. She told me that all I had to do was listen to what I was told and that would be enough to convince me that Rittenhouse was doing good in the world. I was inconsolable. I was so angry. I was in shock. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my mother had been Rittenhouse my entire life, and had raised me in the way that Rittenhouse wanted me to be raised. To be a historian so that one day I would take over my mother’s position at the Table of Elders.”

Lucy looks at Garcia to see if he has any questions. He remains silent. So, she continues.

“The first night I didn’t sleep at all. I laid awake, tossing and turning. I didn’t know at the time, but I was under surveillance. So, the next night they brought me a sedative, which I refused to take. I didn’t want to be drugged because they had drugged me during the day when they interrogated me about you, the journal and what I knew about how to travel within our own timelines.” She swallows hard. “I didn’t trust my mother anymore. I didn’t trust anyone, and at that point, I had been told that everyone at Mason Industries had been killed in an explosion.”

Garcia closes his eyes as his heart breaks.

“So, I refuse to take the sedative and my mom calls in Caleb. He takes the pill from her and grabs me by the neck, slams me against the wall, and forces my head back as she shoves the pill down my throat. I’m hitting at him, trying to kick him, stomp on his feet. I can’t breathe and I’m crying, and trying to scream out to my mother ‘how could you?’ and all she does is stand by and watch. Caleb covers my mouth and nose so I can’t breathe, and he presses his hand harder against my neck so he… so he can feel when I swallow. I thought he was going to crush my neck. I thought that I was going to die.” She shakes her head. “I don’t remember anything after that, only that I woke up the next day with bruises all over my neck and arms from when I hit him.” Lucy gently places her own hand against her neck and swallows, closing her eyes. “That went on exactly the same way for the next two nights.”

Garcia’s heart pounds in his chest and his face flushes red with anger. Those bastards hurt her. They hurt her, and her mother allowed it. Her mother fucking allowed this Caleb to hurt her daughter.

“After those first four nights, I was kept in solitary confinement for two weeks.” Lucy looks at Garcia, a vein in his temple is pulsating and his jaw is clenched. She considers stopping, but she’s just beginning and needs to get this all out. “My mother had Caleb escort me to a small cell… six-foot ceiling, no longer than five feet in width, and it wasn’t even long enough that I could lie down to sleep.” Lucy squeezes her eyes shut. “My mom, she… she… knows that I developed claustrophobia after I almost drowned in that car accident… I refused to enter and had a panic attack. I could barely breathe as I fought against Caleb as he forced me into the cell. I held onto the doorframe for as long as I could, and he hit me. Punched me in the face so I would let go. Then he grabbed me by my neck and threw me to the floor. He fired off several rounds of bullets at me and reminded me that if I didn’t cooperate that his next orders could be planting a bullet in my skull. I cried out for my mom. I had to hold onto the belief that she wouldn’t allow this to happen to me, but the door shut and the lights were turned off.” Lucy looks down at her shaking hands. “I was in complete darkness for an entire week.”

Lucy looks at Garcia when she hears him inhale. His eyes lock with hers and she wets her lips. She knows that it’s only going to get harder to tell him everything because from here… it only gets worse. She knows he’s angry and the last thing she wants to do is set him off and have to stop him from getting in this truck and heading back toward California.

She takes hold of his hand to ground him to her.

Garcia looks at Lucy and nods his head. He knows that she needs him to remain calm no matter how bad this gets. He resists the urge to caress her knuckles with his thumb, not wanting to do anything to trigger her. “Did they let you out for food or a shower?” He growls.

“The cell only had a hole in the floor as a toilet. No shower… and the only light I saw was when Emma brought me a slice of bread and a glass of water once a day.”

He’s visibly shaking with anger so; Lucy reaches out and rubs her hand on his arm.

“I need you to just listen, Garcia. There’s nothing you can do now to erase what they did to me, ok?”

He nods his head and she removes her hand from him, placing it back into her lap.

“They played recordings all day and all night. The recordings were loud so that sleep was impossible. They talked about how Rittenhouse was doing good for the world. That the people of the world are incapable of choosing the correct path for their lives and that Rittenhouse will control everyone. How with time travel they already have the capability of mind control. That in altering history in their favor that in one trip they can alter the minds of billions, and no one would have a clue. One morning we all wake up and we know that John F. Kennedy was President from 1961 until his assassination in 1963. The next day we wake up and Nixon was President from 1961 until January of 1969. He who controls the past, controls the present and the future.”

“And now they have the Mothership and… we don’t even know if they’ve already begun.”

Lucy nods her head.

“It got so bad that first week that I curled up in the corner of the cell and cried. I cried for days. I’d call out for Wyatt to save me. I needed him… wanted him… but he was dead. I couldn’t sleep… and I started hallucinating… I kept hearing Amy speaking to me, blaming me that she disappeared and no one remembered her. I replayed in my head over and over again the words you yelled at me when you were arrested. The only time I saw light was when Emma checked on me. She was the only person I saw that first week, and she came to tell me what Rittenhouse expected of me and how if I agreed with them that they’d let me out. But Emma being Emma… she made sure that I knew she wanted me dead, but that decision was out of her control for now.”

Lucy checks on Garcia. He’s looking off into the darkness, his eyes shimmering with tears. He swallows hard and lowers his head and looks at her. He nods, letting her know she can continue. He’s listening.

“Anyway, the recording played for the entire two weeks I was in solitary confinement. But the second week of it, they turned on bright florescent lights. I think I managed to sleep a few hours each week I was in that cell. And in that second week, my mother visited me. She would bring me more food than I was allowed during the first week. She turned off the recording to give me a few moments of silence. She snuck in earplugs and an eye mask so that I could sleep while the recordings played. She held me in her arms and told me she was doing everything she could to get me out of that cell and back to my room. I told her over and over again that I wanted Wyatt. I needed to see him, that I had to let him know that I loved him. I knew Wyatt was dead, but I wanted him to save me. I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me. I wanted to lose myself in his kisses, to find comfort in his bed. But I knew that would never happen. The possibilities that we spoke of, those were erased when Rittenhouse blew up Mason Industries.”

Garcia runs his hand over his face and shakes his head.

The weight of Wyatt’s name surrounds them. Garcia knows that Lucy was falling in love with the man. He knows that even though things between the two of them seem to be headed in the direction Lucy wrote about in the journal, that she must still hurt from losing Wyatt. And it stings to know that she called out and hoped for Wyatt to save her instead of himself.

“Even though my mom was trying to comfort me, I didn’t trust her. Not completely. I looked forward to her acts of kindness and I thought that at least someone in Rittenhouse wanted to look out for me, who would save my life. And… I’m not stupid. I understood that they were instilling in me Stockholm Syndrome, and I didn’t think that I would fall for it, but Garcia… my mother was the only positive experience I had those two weeks. Her kindness gave me hope that they would let me out, that they would realize it was wrong how they were treating me and… I became grateful, dependent on my mother for helping me… I gave in. I agreed to join them.”

Lucy takes a deep breath and shakes her head at herself. Even though she understands what was done to her, she still cannot believe that she fell for it. But she had to do what she did to survive. If she hadn’t agreed to join them… if she hadn’t done that… how long would they have kept her in solitary confinement? She exhales, and continues.

“I recited things that I had heard on the recordings as if they had become my truths… I was wrong to fight against Rittenhouse because I am the chosen one… self-sacrifice is my reward for my loyalty to Rittenhouse… change the past to ensure our future… I am the Mother of Rittenhouse… control the population to preserve the Earth’s resources for future generations… and though I said these things out loud, inside I was… I was scrambling to come up with a way for you to help me. I knew that you and I were the only two left who wanted to destroy Rittenhouse.”

Lucy looks at him and although she’s holding up, maintaining her composure, Garcia can see in her eyes that she’s closer and closer to her breaking point. He doesn’t know what to say to make any of this better. It can’t be made better.

“And after what Rittenhouse had done to me… the threats, the torture, the solitary confinement… I knew for certain, no doubt, that you were on the right side the entire time. That everything you did was to save the world from Rittenhouse. And I forgave you everything that you did that I thought was horrible. I finally understood, through experience, that you weren’t the monster. That Rittenhouse had to be stopped.”

Lucy looks Garcia in the eye making sure that he’s understood that everything that he did to her and her team last year has been forgiven. He nods to acknowledge what she’s said, and it helps. He has felt guilt over the things he did to her, and to Wyatt, and to Rufus.

“You…” He swallows. “You forgive me for asking Capone to kill Rufus?” He knows now that Rufus is dead that he can never make it up to him or apologize to him for doing that, all he has now for forgiveness is Lucy.

“Yes, of course I do.” She places her hand on his knee. “I understand you were desperate… we were trying to stop you from destroying Rittenhouse and you had to do whatever it took to stop us so that you could destroy them.” She pauses to give his hand a squeeze before letting him go. “I understand more than you know… my mother, she… she wanted me to go on missions with her, to change history. And I decided that on our first trip that I was going to find some way to blow up the Mothership. It didn’t matter if I was in it, or just my mother and Emma, or no one at all… I was willing to kill myself, or stay in the past forever, in order to stop them. I had become just like you, Garcia. Willing to risk everything, even my life, to save the world from Rittenhouse. When my mother suggested that I kill you for my loyalty test, I agreed because it was the only way I could talk to you, to find a way to get your help. I had grown to hate myself and what I had to pretend to be in order to gain their trust to let me be alone with you. By the time I arrived at the prison, I was terrified of them. I still am. And I didn’t trust myself to not try to kill you, but the more time we spent alone, talking… I knew that I couldn’t and…”

Lucy wipes a tear from her face.

“I wished that I had joined you.” She says quietly.

He turns his head sharply to look at her, unblinking.

“I couldn’t stop from thinking that if I had been on your side that I wouldn’t have been taken. If I had joined you to fight Rittenhouse, that… I mean… you went back and saved your brother. You didn’t have anyone telling you that you had to keep waiting as strings were pulled to do that. If I had… if I had joined you…”

“I would’ve gone with you to save your sister.” He says.

Lucy nods her head.

“After I got out of that cell, my mom had my blood tested three times a week for the next three weeks. I understood that they kept tabs on all their members to ensure everyone was in good health and after my first test came back clean, I asked why they continued to test me.” Lucy hesitates, swallowing hard. “My mom explained that they were just making sure that I wasn’t pregnant.”

“You and Wyatt had…?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I had only been with Noah.”

Garcia nods.

“She told me that if I had been pregnant that Rittenhouse would have forced me to have an abortion because…” Lucy shifts, turning away from Garcia. She takes three deep breaths, exhaling slowly. “Because… I… Phase Three is where a member of Rittenhouse commits a self-sacrificing act which benefits the group. Most members decide what that act will be.”

Garcia narrows his eyes as he watches Lucy. She’s fidgeting and twisting the chain of her necklace around her fingers. She’s stalling.

“However, in my case… my self-sacrificing act had been decided centuries earlier.” She stops fidgeting and looks at Garcia, her eyes pleading. “My Phase Three mission was to go back to February 1725 and meet with Byron Rittenhouse, David Rittenhouse’s father.”

Lucy closes her eyes as she shakes her head and digs her fingers into her thighs.

“My… my mom, she gave me… there’s this journal that was written from 1725 to 1731… a journal I wrote, Garcia.” She looks at him with tears in her eyes. “This journal is one of the most important documents in Rittenhouse history because it chronicles the details of David Rittenhouse’s conception, birth and the first six years of his life… through the eyes of his mother.”

Lucy looks at Garcia as this information sinks in. His eyes change from disbelief to realization of her words. He wrinkles his brow and looks at her. He raises his arm to reach out for her, but lowers it since she hasn’t said she wants his comfort.

“Are you…” He shakes his head. This can’t be true. “Are you saying that you are…”

Lucy nods her head.

“Rittenhouse is obsessed with pure blood families. They view themselves as royalty and to ensure that only those with pure blood are at the Table of Elders…”

“Lucy… I don’t think that they’re tracking you to kill you.” He stands up and looks down at her, placing his hands on either side of her on the tailgate. “If you’re David Rittenhouse’s mother… Lucy… they will stop at nothing to capture you and take you back to ensure their founder is born.”

Lucy lets out a soft chuckle. “Maybe I’m just hoping that they’ll kill me instead.” She looks into his eyes. “Maybe my death is the answer to all our problems. If I die, then David Rittenhouse can never be born. That’s how we can destroy Rittenhouse. That’s how we can stop them.”

Lucy reaches behind him and takes the gun from his back pocket. She turns off its safety and hands it to him, making him hold it so it’s pointed at her.

“No.” He shakes his head and throws the gun to the ground. He wants desperately to hold her by the shoulders, but he doesn’t. He respects that she asked him not to touch her. “Don’t say that, Lucy. Your journal, the one that I read. There’s so much you have to look forward to. Not once in that journal did you write about being becoming his mother. You wrote that you and I were close to defeating Rittenhouse. In your journal, you and I… we were pregnant, and-”

“And I lost you.”

Lucy places her hands on his arms and despite how much he wants to wrap his arms around her, he doesn’t. It hurts him not to hold her, but she hasn’t asked for his comfort. And if he touches her and triggers her in any way… he doesn’t want to do that to her.

“We don’t know what happened to me after I wrote that journal, Garcia. You say that I wrote that we were close to defeating Rittenhouse. What if after you died, they got me, and took me back to be David’s mother? We don’t know what happened. As long as I’m alive, my fate could be to… to… in that journal… I wrote about how Byron assaulted me. He was a disgusting man who tore the clothes from my body, beat me, raped me, and left me naked in his room until he came back to do it again and again until I was pregnant. I wrote about how my mother and Emma would make frequent trips to check on the health of the baby growing inside me. And how proud they were of me for allowing… _allowing!”_ Lucy screams the word into the night. She tightens her grip on Garcia’s arm. “They were proud that I allowed myself to be raped so that the founder of Rittenhouse could be born. That my Phase Three, self-sacrifice proved that I truly was worthy of inheriting the organization when my ten years in the eighteenth century were over.”

Garcia closes his eyes. He’s seething with anger. If he even lays one eye on Carol Preston or Emma Whitmore, he will end them without hesitation.

“I wrote in that journal that I fell into deep depression after David was born. The rapes continued and I miscarried three other children. I gave birth to a baby girl, but Byron wanted only sons so he beat me and killed the child. I had named her Amy.” Lucy looks into Garcia’s eyes and caresses his jaw. His eyes are filled with tears and anger. “My suicide note was that journal’s final entry. I wrote that I had lost all hope of ever escaping from Byron. I lost hope that I’d ever see my sister again. I lost hope that someone from where I came from would come and save me. I wrote how I hoped that you would find a way to destroy Rittenhouse so that what I went through wouldn’t keep happening over and over again, in every timeline. I wrote how sorry I was that you were never able to save your family and in that last entry, even though I didn’t believe you would ever read it, I begged of you to kill me before Rittenhouse could take me back to 1725.” She pauses and looks at him. “I never used your name… I only used your initials. I didn’t want them having your name so that they could kill you…” She shakes her head and looks down at her hands in her lap. “As much as I want to be with you… I think that we should listen to what I said in that other-”

“Lucy, I’m not going to ki-”

“No. Listen to me… killing me is the only way to ensure David Rittenhouse isn’t born. It’s the only way to destroy Rittenhouse.”

Garcia shakes his head. “No… even if you died, Rittenhouse exists right now, your mom… Emma… they could take the Mothership, go back and establish it themselves. They don’t need David Rittenhouse to do it.” He pauses and looks her in the eyes. “That doesn’t have to be your fate.”

Lucy removes her hands from his arms and looks at the gun on the ground. His eyes follow her gaze and he bends down. He picks up the gun and immediately disarms it, throwing the bullets into the darkness. He fought her with a knife a few nights ago, he’s not going to fight her with a loaded gun should she try to take it from him to hurt herself.

He isn’t going to let her kill herself to destroy Rittenhouse.

Lucy watches him as he places the empty gun into his back pocket. She knows that he’s worried for her. And he’s sat next to her and stood in front of her without touching her as she asked. Ever since she read her journal from the early eighteenth century, she has considered suicide as an option. If she couldn’t find a way to destroy the Mothership, the only option she figured she had left was to kill herself, but Garcia is right. If she died and Rittenhouse could still travel back in time, they could go back and establish Rittenhouse even earlier than 1778. Her death wouldn’t ensure anything.

Garcia runs his hand through his hair and looks at her.

“Killing yourself isn’t going to help anyone, Lucy. Trust me… I’ve been there. Two weeks after my family was killed I was in hiding, alone. The only thing keeping me from killing myself was the idea of stopping these beasts who had done this thing… this was before you gave me your journal and at that point, I had no plans. I ran as far as I could. I ended up in a bar in São Paulo, Brazil.”

Garcia licks his lip and looks at Lucy, the realization that he had been suicidal has struck her deeply.

“I… I was on my third drink when you walked in. You looked maybe five years older than you look now, but no less… you looked beautiful. You told me your name. You knew everything. How my family died, that Rittenhouse was behind all of this. You told me there was a way for me to stop them, and that to do it, I was gonna need your help. You handed me the journal with tears in your eyes, you kissed me on the cheek and told me I was right about everything. You asked me to reach out to you so that we could stop Rittenhouse and save the ones we love. You looked so full of hope but sadness was reflecting in your eyes. I… I didn’t have my wedding ring at the time, I had taken it off the night my girls were killed and… Lucy… you wore it around your neck… you gave it back to me.” He reaches out and holds Lucy’s necklace in his hand. “You told me that you knew how much the ring meant to me. In a way, you gave me back my girls… you gave me so much that night, Lucy.”

Tears have formed in his eyes. He needs her to know that she saved him. He had been so close to killing himself that Christmas Eve. If she hadn’t talked to him… if she hadn’t given him back his wedding ring… if she hadn’t given him her journal… he knows that he would not be here today.

Lucy wraps her hand around Garcia’s wrist and he lets go of her necklace, realizing that Lucy hadn’t asked for him to touch her. She lowers her gaze and holds her hands in her lap. She didn’t know that he had been so close to taking his own life. She could have lost him before she even knew him. The thought of not having him in her life breaks her heart.

“I read the entire journal that night, Lucy. And you know what it gave me?” He lowers himself to look into her eyes. “It gave me hope. It gave me a reason to live, something to fight for. And sweetheart… I wasn’t just fighting for revenge or to save my girls… I was… _I am_ fighting for you… I’m fighting for our child that you miscarried… I’m… I’m fighting for us.”

Her heart hurts. It hurts so much that tears sting her eyes. She looks to him for help, her voice breaks as she tells him, “I’m not well, Garcia.”

She watches as he closes his eyes and she knows. She knows without his saying that all he wants to do is comfort her and he’s waiting for her to give consent or to initiate contact on her own. She sees that he’s hurting for her and that all he wants is to hold her. But her heart is racing and she allows her tears to stream down her face.

“And I want to help you, sweetheart… I love you too goddamn much to just stand here and let you say these things, and ask me to…” He trails off, shaking his head, “… to take your life…”

He turns his back to her and wipes tears from his eyes. He keeps telling himself that not offering himself to comfort her is what she needs. It’s what she told him she wants. But fuck what she told him. She needs him whether she knows it or not. He spins around and is caught off guard as Lucy wraps her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest.

He melts into her, wrapping his arms around her. Holding her so close to his body that he can feel her heart pounding against him. She sobs in his arms and cries out over and over again that she’s sorry for ever asking him to end her life. To forgive her, only… he was never angry with her about any of this. He’s angry with Rittenhouse, with Emma, and with her mother, but never with her. He will never be angry with Lucy for telling him her fears, for telling him the truth.

“I… I heard them say ‘kill the girl’ and… maybe, I don’t understand why… it doesn’t make sense if they want to force me to give birth to David Rittenhouse.” She cries.

“I heard them say that too, draga…” He runs his hand through her hair over and over again. “That could mean that things are different now… in your journal you said we tracked down David’s parents so we could prevent them from meeting so he would never be born… maybe… maybe you aren’t his mother. Maybe that’s not how it happened in the timeline you came from when you gave me your journal.”

Lucy lifts her head from his chest and steps away from him, wiping her eyes.

“Fuck.” She says, running her hands over her face. “I’m so tired of feeling like this. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m just so damn tired, Garcia. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” She props herself back up on the tailgate of the truck. “I need help and I don’t know how to get it.”

He steps toward her, again hesitating to touch her. He looks at her through lowered eyes.

“Can I touch you, Lucy?”

She nods her head.

He steps toward he and runs his hand through her hair, caressing his thumb down the side of her neck.

“I will help you, Lucy.” He promises. “I don’t care how horrible something is, if you need to talk about it, I am here for you. I want you to know that you don’t have to keep anything from me. I accept you and I…” He hesitates, not sure he should tell her he loves her again. “I want you to confide in me because…”

“Because you love me?” Her voice is small.

So, she did hear him when he blurted that out.

“Because I love you.”

“I stopped believing in love, you know.” She says softly. “Anyone who has claimed to love me always had ulterior motives, or was using me… I… I struggle with it now… for me… love isn’t real, but with you…” Her hands tremble as she reaches up and touches Garcia’s face. She glances down at his lips, then to his eyes. She can’t find the words to say how she feels for him, but she can make him feel what she knows in her heart is true. With one breath, she leans forward and kisses him.

Love.

Her lips are soft against his and remain closed as they both close their eyes and surrender to their first kiss. His lips tremble as he lets out a soft cry. It’s been so long since he’s kissed the woman he loves and he wasn’t expecting to be hit with so much emotion. His heart hurts for Lorena but longs for Lucy. He rests his forehead against hers and exhales. He feels Lucy run her fingers behind his ear as her hand drifts down the side of his neck.

“Are you ok?” She whispers.

“I… I don’t know…” He’s honest. “I want this, Lucy, but… I haven’t been kissed since Lorena and… my heart… it hurts… the way this feels… I miss her, Lucy…”

Lucy presses her lips against his forehead and wipes a tear from his face, rubbing her nose against his.

“If you’re not ready we don’t have to kiss… I understand.”

His heart shatters into a million pieces at her gesture.

As much as he loves and misses Lorena, he is in love with Lucy now and nothing could change that. How he feels for Lucy is stronger than anything he’s felt in his life. He wants her to know that though his heart hurts, he still wants her. He needs her to help him heal. He’s let go of Lorena. He can move on. It’s just he wasn’t expecting to feel so much emotion when he kissed Lucy. He wraps his arms around her and holds the back of her head in his trembling hand as she looks up at him, her eyes asking if he’s all right.

And he is all right.

With Lucy, he’s felt more alive than he has since the night Rittenhouse murdered his family. He caresses his thumb across Lucy’s lips and tilts her head up toward him. He kisses her again, pulling her body into his. He moves his hand to hold onto the back of her neck, his fingers weaving into her hair.

Her lips part and he moans her name as she kisses his upper lip. Her hands finger the short hair tufts at the base of his neck. He opens his mouth for only a second to take a breath. He pulls her closer to him, spreading open his hand across her back, his thumb kneading her muscles. She inches closer to him, pressing her chest against his. Her heart flutters, her ears are ringing. She’s lightheaded and her skin tingles at his touch.

For the first time in a long time, Lucy feels loved. She whimpers his name and he opens his mouth to her. She cries out as she wraps her arms around his neck as their tongues cautiously begin to explore each other. They fumble to find the same rhythm as their tongues dance around each other. She remains seated on the tailgate and wraps her legs around his lower back.

Garcia moans his approval into her mouth as she slides her hand down his back to hold him at his waist. She hooks her thumb over the waist of his jeans and allows herself the thought of stripping them from his body. She feels warmth spread between her legs, and as much as she wants him and he wants her… she pulls out of the kiss. Panting to catch her breath, she lowers her eyes and sees that he too is aroused. She looks up into his hazel-green eyes and sees his desire for her.

“We shouldn’t.” She’s breathless. “I want to, but… we shouldn’t…”

Garcia’s chest rises and falls with each breath. He places his hands on Lucy’s knees, pushing her legs apart so he can stand in between them. Lucy closes her eyes enjoying every sensation that flows through her body as he spreads her. She inches closer to him, needing to feel him press against her center. She wraps her hand around the back of his neck and nips at his lower lip and kisses him again.

“Lucy…” He moans, his voice deeper. He pulls out of her kiss and rests his forehead against hers. “I want you, Lucy…”

“I know… but we shouldn’t…” She swallows as she tries to catch her breath. “I’ve been off the pill for six weeks and-”

“There’re no condoms in the truck.” He finishes her sentence.

“Unless… unless we want to try to get pregnant now… that way if they capture me and try to take me back to…” Lucy slides her hand down the front of Garcia’s jeans and strokes him over the fabric of his boxer briefs. Garcia gently takes hold of her wrist and removes her hand.

“Is that really what you want?”

She holds his gaze and answers, “no.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head at herself. She wants him. She knows that she wants him. But her reasons for wanting to make love to him shouldn’t be associated with their fight against Rittenhouse. And even if they did sleep together tonight, and if she got pregnant because of it, Rittenhouse could still capture her and force her to have an abortion. She looks him in the eye and stops herself from apologizing. “I’m tired. I just want to try to sleep.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He kisses her forehead. “I’ll put out the fire and we’ll sleep.”

Lucy lets out a quiet chuckle at his use of the words “put out the fire” and wonders if he understands its double meaning. She crawls toward the back of the bed of the truck and picks up their new journal and lies down on her side. She sighs, telling herself that it’s ok that she and Garcia have come so close to physically expressing their feelings for each other, only to stop things before they became too intense. If he is the one that she’s meant to be with, the one she loves, the one that she’ll marry and have a child with… then they have all the time in the world to make love when it feels right.

She lifts her head as the truck dips as Garcia joins her. She watches as he makes his way toward her, spooning up behind her, draping his arm over her waist. His hand brushes over the journal she’s holding against her chest.

“There’s still so much that I didn’t tell you, you know.” She yawns. “I just got the worst of it out of the way.”

Garcia strokes her arm with his thumb, caressing her as if she’s fragile and even the slightest touch could break her. “You’re the strongest person I know, Lucy.” He murmurs into her ear and kisses her cheek.

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

“No. You are. And you wanna know why?”

“Hm?

“You were thrown into this war. You didn’t sign up for any of this. It isn’t your choice. But you keep going. You’ve faced so much adversity, you’ve lost so much and it hasn’t broken you. It’s only made you stronger.”

“Somehow, I think asking you to kill me isn’t a show of strength.”

“You knew that I wouldn’t do it. You told me these things because you are strong enough to reach out for help when you know you need it. Not everyone can do that. Most people go about their lives thinking they can handle everything they’re going through alone. It takes a brave person to speak up and admit that you’re not ok, that you need help.”

“And if I hadn’t?”

“Even if you chose to keep all that bottled up inside, you still wake up every day and find a way to go on. That takes strength too.” He tightens his grip on her and she nuzzles her back into his chest. “What I’m saying, Lucy, is that… you’re stronger than you think.”

Lucy closes her eyes as she thinks back on the past five months. How she was talked into traveling through time to save history from Garcia, how she returned to a world she didn’t know – one where her sister never existed and her mother is Rittenhouse. How she changed from a happy-go-lucky historian and professor to the kind of person who could shoot and kill Jesse James. To the kind of person who would consider suicide as the only option to end this war against Rittenhouse. She thinks about how often she’s pretended that she is fine and that everything is normal when the opposite is true. She thinks about how the only person who understands her is Garcia Flynn, a man who she once feared and who she considered her enemy. Her heart aches when she thinks about how Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya died in that explosion at Mason Industries. They didn’t deserve that. None of them deserves what they’re going through. Lucy opens her eyes and turns to face Garcia, pressing her hands against his chest.

“I’m not ok, but I have to be.” She whispers.

“You don’t have to be ok with me, Lucy.” He touches her so gently that she can barely feel his touch.

“This is childish, but… because Rittenhouse kept me in the darkness… I’m… I’m afraid of the dark… that’s why I’ve managed to sleep next to you most nights since we’ve been together… I feel safe with you, Garcia. As if I might be able to sleep knowing you’re here with me.”

She feels him tuck his chin against her head and he exhales.

“I never told you how thankful I am that you’re alive, Lucy.” He whispers into her ear. “When Agent Christopher told me that you were missing and presumed dead… I… I felt like I was losing my girls all over again.” He takes hold of her hand and kisses her knuckles. “I cried for you, Lucy. Alone, in my cell. You were all I had left and… all I could think about was how I wanted to break out of that prison to try to find you. I couldn’t believe you were dead, to believe it I’d have to see it with my own eyes. And I decided that if you were really, truly dead that I was going to steal that time machine again, go back and save you.” He tightens his grip on Lucy and feels her pull him toward her. “When you walked into that visitation home I… I was so happy to see you, and I am so sorry for the way that I treated you there. Being locked up, alone with your darkest thoughts… that messes with your mind, Lucy and… I hate the man that I’ve become, but with you… I’m remembering who I was before all of this began… you make me believe that one day I can be a husband and a father again…”

_Go home to my family. They’ll be alive again. Let my little girl jump into my arms. Hug my wife. And then say goodbye and walk away forever… Chasing Rittenhouse… I’ve done horrible things, become something else. How can I bring that into my home? What kind of husband or a father can I be after what I’ve done?_

Lucy smiles up at him through the tears in her eyes. Not long ago he was so far from accepting that he was a man worthy of family and love. He almost killed a child and she stopped him. She argued with him that though he said that he couldn’t be a father after what he’d done, that he could. And she believes this with all her heart. Garcia Flynn is a good man. A good man thrown into this war against his will.

Life can’t go on like this forever.

At some point everything will come barreling towards an end. And once the ashes settle and they’ve destroyed Rittenhouse, they’ll be able to get back to their lives together. If that means that one day, he’ll be her husband and the father of her children, she will welcome that day with open arms. She lifts herself up and places a kiss on his lips as her thumb caresses his face. She lies back down and closes her eyes and prays that sleep will find her.

Garcia lies next to her, listening to her breathe as she drifts slowly toward sleep. When he lost Lorena and Iris, he never wanted to feel this way again. He thought that love like he had with his girls was something that happened once in a lifetime, but he was wrong. He has found it again, and though it guilts him to think this… the love he has for Lucy is stronger than the love he had before. Maybe that’s because the two of them share so much loss, so much grief, that it’s bonded them in ways that he didn’t bond with Lorena. He knows that the connection he and Lucy share is special, and he doesn’t want to lose it. He can’t lose it. He can’t lose her. He loves her too goddamn much.

He knows that he won’t get much sleep tonight because he’s still worried that Rittenhouse will find them. He wants to stay awake so that he can watch out for Lucy, protect her. He pulls the other sleeping bag up over their bodies, covering her shoulders to keep her warm. He kisses her cheek and whispers “I love you, Lucy” into her ear as he settles next to her.

Lucy swallows as a tear falls down her face. Though her eyes are closed, she can’t sleep and she heard him. She feels in his voice that he means what he says and she wants his love, and she wants to love him too. She does love him. She wants to say those three words to him so he knows with certainty how she feels, but… those words are powerful, and she doesn’t want to say them. She has to protect her heart.

And just how she’s making him believe he could be a husband and father again, maybe he is helping her believe that love is real and that she is worthy of being loved.

\-----

The sun rises above the horizon ahead of them as they drive east early the next morning. The radio is set to a station that hums with white noise over The Flamingos’s _I Only Have Eyes for You_ …

 _My love must be a kind of blind love_  
_I can’t see anyone but you_  
_Sha bop sha bop_  
_Sha bop sha bop_  
_Sha bop sha bop_  
_Sha bop sha bop_  
_Sha bop sha bop_

 _Are the stars out tonight_  
_I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright_  
_I only have eyes for you dear_  
_Sha bop sha bop_

 _The moon may be high_  
_Sha bop sha bop_  
_But I can’t see a thing in the sky_  
_I only have eyes for you_

The lyrics to the song echo as if being heard within a dream. A dream which is a vision that Jiya can’t seem to bring herself out of tonight.

In this vision, she’s driving east on I-10 towards Houston, Texas. Passing through Luling and stopping at the Buc-ee’s gas station and travel center, picking up freshly-made fudge. She sees out the window that a man is filling up gas in a truck. Jiya thinks the man looks familiar, but isn’t certain. Everything around her glows with a red and pink aura. This doesn’t always happen in her visions and she tries to force herself awake to make note of the colors in a diary she’s been keeping since Agent Christopher moved everyone into the bunker a couple weeks ago.

 _You are here_  
_Sha bop sha bop_  
_And so am I_

She’s sitting in the truck now… The Flamingos fade as Patsy Cline plays soft on the radio…

 _The poor man’s roses_  
_And the thrill when we kiss_  
_Will be memories of paradise_  
_That I’ll never miss_

In her vision time passes by as slowly or as quickly as it chooses. She sees signs for Harwood, Flatonia, Weimar, Sealy and Katy, Texas before seeing the skyline of downtown Houston. A traffic sign flashes the word NOVUS at her in bright yellow lights.

NOVUS.

NOVUS.

NOVUS.

 _And yet the hand that brings the rose tonight_  
_Is the hand I will hold?_  
_For the rose of love means more to me_  
_More than any rich man’s gold_

Everything brightens until the blazing sun is as gold as that of the rich man’s which Patsy Cline sings about. It blinds Jiya and she covers her eyes. Then the sun is starting to set behind her as the truck continues forward toward Houston.

Though Jiya’s only had her visions for several weeks, she’s learning – or she thinks she’s learning – how to control them. She knows she wants to see who is driving the truck and she wants to see whose perspective from whom she’s having this vision. She focuses on the visor and lowers it, and sees Lucy Preston in its reflection. She feels her heartbeat race as she realizes that despite what Agent Christopher has told everyone that Lucy might still be alive, but who is she with?

_Focus, Jiya… just focus and turn your head…_

Jiya startles awake when she turns and sees escaped terrorist and murderer, Garcia Flynn at the wheel.

Jiya’s eyes open and she sits up in her bed.

She looks around her.

She is alone.

She looks at the bed across the room for her. The bed that she insisted they keep for when they can find Lucy and bring her back to the bunker with the rest of the team. Jiya holds her fingers over the pulse point on her neck and breathes deep.

In… and out… in… out…

If this vision is even remotely accurate that means that Agent Christopher’s insistence that Lucy is dead is incorrect. It means that Lucy is out there, probably in Texas or on her way to Texas, with Garcia Flynn. Good God, what if he escaped prison, found Lucy and kidnapped her again?

But what if that’s an incorrect assumption? Jiya thinks that she saw this vision through Lucy’s eyes, and she did not feel frightened of or life-threatened by Flynn.

A violent jolt hits her and she crashes backward onto her pillow, her eyes fluttering.

All she can see is darkness.

“Lucy was falling in love with you, you know?”

Jiya knows that voice… she knows it from the videos she watched of the other test pilots at Mason Industries. It’s Emma Whitmore.

“Yeah… I know.”

Jiya struggles to maintain focus on this vision as she hears Wyatt respond to Emma. She sees him, but he’s out of focus. A blur. Then it’s as black as night again as Emma continues speaking to him.

“Once we find where they are, your orders are to get Lucy away from Flynn. Bring her back to the bunker. Get involved with the bitch. And as soon as she trusts you… kill her.”

BAM!

Jiya’s eyes open at the sound of a gunshot. She sits up in her bed again and looks around. The gunshot sounded like it was just outside her bunk door. She jumps out of bed and runs to open the door, peering out into the hallway. Wyatt passes her with a towel slung over his shoulder. He nods his head and says nothing to her as he enters the bathroom.

She doesn’t understand her visions and she hasn’t even told Rufus about them. She’s not sure if she should. She’s afraid of them. In the hospital a few weeks ago she looked out the window and saw the Golden Gate Bridge as it was being constructed, as if she had time traveled back to San Francisco in the 1930s. Since that vision, she’s had many more. No vision lasts long, and most of them she can’t make out when or where they take place. But this one about Lucy and Flynn, and then Emma and Wyatt… they’re the first visions she’s had that involve people she knows.

She can’t shake the feeling that what she heard and what she saw was important. Something she needs to take care of. But how? If Lucy is alive, and if she’s with Flynn… how could Jiya contact her? What do Lucy and Flynn have to do with Houston or Texas?

And more importantly… why did she have a vision where it seems as if Wyatt is involved with Emma Whitmore, Flynn’s pilot? Do Flynn and Emma have Lucy and want to hand her over to Wyatt so he can kill her?

None of this makes sense.

Jiya knows Wyatt. She knows that he and Lucy were on the verge of becoming an item. She’s almost certain that they love each other so, why would Wyatt… no… why would anyone give Wyatt orders to kill Lucy?

Jiya wanders out into the common area of the bunker and sits down in front of a computer. She types “Garcia Flynn Houston Texas” and hits search in the web browser. Several articles pop up immediately:

 **HOUSTON PRESS**  
_A Terrorist’s Prison Break_  
Mon. March 13, 2017

 **THE HOUSTON CHRONICLE**  
_Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston On the Run_  
Mon. March 13, 2017

Well, there’s confirmation right there that the information Agent Christopher has been feeding them is wrong. But why would she lie to them? Shouldn’t Agent Christopher want to bring Lucy back to the bunker so she is safe? Jiya keeps scrolling through the search results.

 **HOUSTON GAZETTE**  
_Mother of Local Terrorist Speaks About Her Son’s Incarceration  
_Wed. January 30, 2017

 **THE HOUSTON CHRONICLE**  
_Terrorist Garcia Flynn Arrested_  
Monday, January 28, 2017

 **NATIONAL WEEKLY NEWS**  
_Murderer Garcia Flynn’s Status Upgraded to TERRORIST After Raid on Mason Industries  
_Wed. October 5, 2016

 **SAN DIEGO TRIBUNE**  
_Wanted for Murder: Garcia Flynn_  
Th. December 11, 2014

Jiya’s heart is racing. She scrolls back up and reads the article title again. _Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston On the Run_. She reads the article title again and again before it really sinks in: Lucy is alive and she is with Garcia Flynn just as she saw in her vision. Jiya looks around. She’s still alone in the commons area. As much as she wants to read the article about Lucy, she’s more curious about the article about the mother of local terrorist. She clicks and reads.

> _Three days ago, Garcia Flynn was arrested. He had been wanted for the 2014 murder of his wife and daughter. Two years later, he made the FBI’s Most Wanted list after Homeland Security discovered that he was associated with an Iranian terrorist group. Flynn was placed under arrest by Homeland Security agent Denise Christopher with the aid of Lucy Preston, a history professor at Stanford University who has an undisclosed history with the terrorist. The Houston Gazette has caught up with Flynn’s mother, Maria Thompkins-Flynn for her insight and to express how it feels to have raised a murderer and a terrorist._

Jiya opens up another tab in the web browser and types in “Maria Thompkins Houston” and the first search result that shows up is for NOVUS Innovations, an engineering and technology company based in Houston. Jiya is familiar with the company as it is often viewed as one of the main rivals of Mason Industries in innovation.

NOVUS.

NOVUS.

NOVUS.

Jiya flashes back to her vision.

She clicks on the link to view the site…. Board of Directors…

*click*

Jiya leans in toward the monitor and sees that Maria Thompkins-Flynn is listed as President and the head of the Innovations Department at NOVUS Innovations. Jiya nods her head. If Lucy is with Flynn, they must be headed toward Houston to seek asylum with his mother. Jiya scrolls to the bottom of the page and writes down a contact telephone number on a Post-It note. She doesn’t have access to a phone in the bunker as Agent Christopher confiscated everyone’s devices before they were brought here, but not having access to technology shouldn’t be a problem.

Jiya shoves the Post-It note into the pocket of her sweatpants and clears the search history on the browser before closing out. She has to find a way to contact Maria, to find out if in fact Lucy and Flynn have reached out to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are worried, as I would be if I were reading this instead of writing it, there will NEVER be an incest/rape scene in this story. The threat to Lucy is there, but I promise you that it will not happen.


	6. Kroz Vrijeme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiya confronts Wyatt about the vision she had of him and Emma Whitmore during their mission to Darlington, South Carolina. After an emotional night, filled with revelations about what Rittenhouse did to Lucy, she and Garcia close in on Houston, Texas, and prepare themselves to confront his mother, Maria Thompkins.

 

“These are original stock cars, no restoration!” Wyatt exclaims with boyish glee as he distances himself from Rufus and Jiya at the Darlington racetrack.

“Duh. We’re in 1955. Of course, they’re originals,” Jiya says, rolling her eyes. She shakes her head in disbelief, wondering how Wyatt has managed to remain so dense despite the fact that he’s been time traveling for half a year. He should know by now that everything they see in the past is current. Not antique, and not restored.

Wyatt glares back at Jiya and then addresses Rufus, “Why can’t you keep her in her place?”

“She speaks her mind and I love that about her.” Rufus answers. He and Jiya exchange a look. “Besides, who am I to tell her what to think and what to say?”

“Well, it is the 1950s…” Wyatt scoffs then adds, “when in Rome.” Wyatt speaks down to the man who has become just as much his friend as his co-worker. Wyatt huffs and picks up his pace, leaving Rufus and Jiya behind him. He rounds the corner and glances into one of the many garages here at the racetrack, looking for Rittenhouse sleeper agent, Ryan Millerson.

Wyatt’s getting really pissed off about this assignment. Five months ago, he was assigned by Rittenhouse to chase after and kill Garcia Flynn before he could team up with Lucy as together, they could very possibly destroy Rittenhouse.

At first, Wyatt saw this assignment as an opportunity. An opportunity to get back in the good graces of the Table of Elders after he fucked up the 2014 mission to kill Garcia Flynn. He also saw this assignment as an opportunity to not only manipulate his way into Lucy Preston’s pants – the girl is hot after all – but also into her heart so that he might gain power in Rittenhouse. If he could win her heart, he could marry her, father her children and be welcomed with open arms into the Rittenhouse elite. He would become Rittenhouse royalty.

While he supports Emma Whitmore’s plans to rid Rittenhouse of its pure bloodline leadership, he likes to keep his options open. He’s been careful that any action he’s made to help Emma’s efforts can be construed as helping her in order to report back to the Table of Elders once he obtained information that they would need to take her down. And if Lucy is in fact dead, as Agent Christopher has informed him, and if Emma succeeds, he can also be perceived as one of her greatest assets and ride Emma’s wave of power as she takes over Rittenhouse.

Of course, he’d much rather secure power by manipulating the weak-minded Lucy Preston, who had proven herself to be easy to control. He also wouldn’t mind dipping his dick into her to secure a seat at the Table of Elders. Wyatt smirks to himself at the thought of sitting there next to the likes of Carol Preston, and the now imprisoned Benjamin Cahill, having fucked his way up the ladder, using their precious Princess for his own gains. It would have been quite the feat if Lucy hadn’t been killed. He shakes his head at the thought. He still suspects that there is no way in Hell that Carol Preston would allow Rittenhouse to kill her only daughter. At least not without trying to get her to join the group.

Wyatt glances into another garage.

No. Still no Ryan Millerson.

And to make his situation worse, he’s being forced to live in that disgusting old Department of Defense Missile Control Center bunker, approximately one-hundred feet underground, and guarded by Rittenhouse security agents. The bunker has been in Rittenhouse’s possession since they won George H. W. Bush the White House in 1989, just before the end of the Cold War. There, in that bunker, he’s forced to live with three former super-nerd employees of Mason Industries: Rufus Carlin – a nice enough guy, but can’t hold his own in a conversation about football or NASCAR, Jiya Marri – cute, and if he hadn’t been targeting Lucy, he very much would have gone after her, and Connor Mason – a boring as fuck Brit who despite his apparent intelligence has no idea how to operate a basic MP3 player.

Of course, Agent Christopher spent much of her time at the bunker with the team, but the bitch got to go home to her family every night. Wyatt shakes his head. How in the world did that woman get in a position to be his superior? Sure, she’s older than him, but he has military experience – elite, mind you, Delta Force – and she was only a cop in D.C. when she was younger. And considering she was a woman doing a man’s job, he doubts that she was given as much field experience as she would need to truly be a qualified and experienced superior agent of Rittenhouse.

Living in the bunker frustrates him. The food is bad, he can’t watch TV or news programs, and he can’t keep up with all the damn geek speak. He tries, but he never understands what any of them are talking about. So, all he does is nod his head and pretend that he is following along. It’s boring and he’d rather ditch them and get back to his apartment at Rittenhouse headquarters where he belongs. Back to where he won’t be judged for kicking back with a flask of whiskey before noon.

And on these time missions, he’s sick and tired of playing babysitter to Rufus, and now Jiya. A few days ago, when they were in 1918, all was going well. He was keeping Rufus away from Carol and Emma’s location as they waited to intercept Nicholas Keynes, and then fucking Rufus recognized Caleb Sullivan.

Needless to say, Wyatt got his ass chewed out by Agent Christopher the night they got back after Rufus, Jiya and Connor had retired for the night. Rittenhouse was not pleased that Wyatt had to kill Caleb in order to keep his cover intact.

Wyatt peers into another garage and sees Ryan Millerson looking over his stock car, preparing it for today’s race and Rittenhouse mission. He hasn’t seen Ryan since their days together in field ops training at the Rittenhouse Field Ops Agency in Colorado during the summer of 2011.

Ryan was fresh out of the US Marine Corps bootcamp training program, and a pimply-faced eighteen-year-old boy who had looked up to Wyatt, who was eight years older than him at the time. But here in 1955, Ryan has been here for nine years and is now one year Wyatt’s senior.

He had been with Wyatt on the mission to kill Flynn in December of 2014. He was selected for that mission because second to Wyatt, Ryan was the best soldier Rittenhouse had recruited.

That night, Wyatt had been in Flynn’s daughter’s bedroom, checking to make sure that his gunshot had taken the young girl’s life. He heard gunshots sounding out in the hallway. Ryan was squaring off against Flynn, and holding his own against the more experienced NSA covert agent. Wyatt joined Ryan after checking to make sure that Flynn’s wife was dead. They call them silencers, but the noise suppressors barely did a good job when three men were shooting at one another in that cramped hallway. Ryan managed to hit Flynn twice. Once in the left shoulder, and the second bullet straight into his gut.

Unfortunately, Garcia Flynn kept fighting for his life and escaped. Which in turn fucked up everything Wyatt had worked so hard for since joining Rittenhouse. It was even more infuriating that Flynn managed to avoid death several times last year when he, Rufus and Lucy had chased him through time. The guy either had very good luck or… Wyatt himself was just a shitty soldier. Wyatt leans toward the former, but he hates that Flynn might be better at this line of work than he is, and he’s glad that the bastard is locked away in solitary confinement in prison until he gets served his deserved death sentence.

Wyatt steps into Ryan’s garage and watches his old friend, who hasn’t yet noticed Wyatt is there. Wyatt shakes his head in disbelief. While he has memories of training and working with Ryan, he also remembers growing up hanging a vintage 1959 Daytona 500 poster on his wall that featured the famed Ryan Millerson. He’s struck by the power that Rittenhouse has now that they have control of the Mothership and can go back and change history, and bend it to their will. Rittenhouse has complete control over the minds of billions of people.

It’s all one big mind fuck, really.

Ryan crosses the garage and sits down on the passenger side of his racecar. He tinkers with the trigger install for the bomb that Rittenhouse needs for him to set off later this afternoon.

“Ryan?” Wyatt says, clearing his throat.

Ryan looks up from what he’s doing and sees his old friend.

“Wyatt Sherwin Logan, as I live and breathe.”

The two men embrace, patting each other on the back.

“I haven’t seen you in years.” Ryan says as he steps back to take a good look at Wyatt. “You haven’t aged a bit.”

“And you’re now a year older than me, old man.” Wyatt jokes, cracking a smile on his face.

“An old man with a child on the way.”

“You’re kidding.” Wyatt smiles. “Does Rittenhouse know you’ve gone and done that?” He asks.

“Emma knows. She’s not pleased about it, but… Wyatt, man… you have no idea what it’s like to be thrown into the past alone. All they send you back with is minimal knowledge of the era and expect you to blend in immediately. It sounds easier on paper, but it’s not.” He pauses. “I met this girl and she made adjusting to life here so much easier and well… family planning isn’t how it is in 2017 so…” He looks down. “So… how’s it going trying to get with the princess?”

“You mean Lucy?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Agent Christopher says she’s dead, but I have my doubts. I keep hoping that Rittenhouse has her locked up somewhere, trying to turn her. But Lucy’s stubborn. She won’t turn easily and it’s only been a few weeks.” Wyatt says.

“They’re probably torturing her if she’s with them.” Ryan says sympathetically. “How long has she been missing?”

“Almost seven weeks.” Wyatt runs his hand through his hair and looks around. “I was just hoping I’d get to fuck her at least once, you know?”

“She is gorgeous.” Ryan says, uncomfortable with the way Wyatt speaks about a pureblood Rittenhouse princess. He digs into his pocket and retrieves his wallet, wanting to change the subject. “This is my wife, Beverly.” He shows Wyatt a picture.

“She’s cute.”

“And very pregnant and Emma brought her here, threatening to kill her if I don’t follow through with this suicide mission.”

“Suicide?”

“Plans changed. I’m to crash my damn car into the crowd where those guys from Chrysler and Ford are… which doesn’t make any sense because Ford is one of us. Rittenhouse already has control over the Ford Motor Company, but Emma insisted that this is the new plan so I guess I have to do it.”

Wyatt narrows his brow. He knows exactly why Emma has shown up and changed Ryan’s mission. If Emma can take away power from the Rittenhouse superpower, Ford Motor Company, she can weaken the hold that the Table of Elders – all pure blood members, mind you – has in Rittenhouse as she gradually infiltrates the group for her own coup d’état.

Of course, he had his own ideas for his own coup d’état of Rittenhouse: marry the princess. However, in the past couple of months, he has been told in so many words, to leave Lucy alone. That the Table of Elders has already chosen her a husband and nothing will change that fact.

Wyatt tried.

He kissed Lucy, called her babydoll, spoke of possibilities, threw his impeccable charm her way, seat belt buckled, ma’amed, smirked and lied about having a wife who died in order to win Lucy’s sympathy.

The fact is, though, that he is still married to Jessica, and she is still very much alive.

She was raised by Rittenhouse, brought up in their organization since she was just a child. But in February of 2012, not even a year since Wyatt had become a member, she came to him and expressed her desire to get out. She was tired of living life in fear, tired of feeling she was always being watched. She told him that she didn’t agree with what Carol wanted to do with the time machine they had commissioned from Connor Mason, and that she wanted him to leave with her. She wanted him to help her take down Rittenhouse.

Wyatt reported Jessica to Carol Preston that night after Jessica had fallen asleep by his side. The next day, Caleb Sullivan showed up and hauled Jessica away. She was to be tried by the Table of Elders.

Wyatt hasn’t seen or heard from Jessica ever since, but was given assurance that she was still very much alive and paying for her betrayal.

So, when he had the opportunity to get in good with Princess Lucy Preston, he used her kindheartedness against her. He told her a lie that his wife had been murdered and the killer never found. He used Rittenhouse resources to create newspaper articles both in print and online just in case Lucy – or anyone else – would go digging for more information. Rittenhouse even framed a man named Wes Gilliam for the non-existent murder, placing samples of his blood at the made-up crime scene. Rittenhouse knew Gilliam had killed before so it was easy to frame the unlucky bastard.

And it worked.

Godammit, it had been working.

Lucy Preston had been falling in love with him.

The fact that she died, even though he fucking knows that Carol wanted to bring Lucy into Rittenhouse, is the very reason he thinks he’s being lied to. It fucking pissed him off when they came back from their first mission and he found out that Lucy was engaged to some doctor named Noah Cantu. He tried to talk Lucy into calling off the engagement, but the bitch was stubborn. She had this weird idea that maybe Noah was the man she was supposed to be with and that she should give the relationship a chance. She refused to consider his suggestion that she should let Noah go so he could be with who he was meant to be with.

“Earth to Wyatt.” Ryan says, snapping his fingers.

Wyatt looks toward Wyatt and sees that Emma Whitmore has joined them.

Fuck.

 _Way to look like an airhead,_ _Wyatt,_ he thinks to himself.

Emma takes a step toward him, a smarmy smirk on her face. She places her hands on her hips and looks down on him.

“Lucy’s still alive.” She tells him.

“I figured as much.” Wyatt says, keeping his guard up.

“Look, you know I hate her and that in an ideal world she would be made to suffer. I really did enjoy seeing her break when we tried to convert her-”

“Tried?” Wyatt asks.

“She manipulated her mother into believing that she had become one of us.” Emma pauses and looks back at Ryan who is tinkering with the bomb again. “Got herself a conjugal visit with Flynn-”

“She fucked him?” Wyatt is disgusted.

“We don’t know, but the bitch is an easy lay.” Emma smiles. “Which is funny since you never could seal the deal with her before Rittenhouse kidnapped her.” She’s smug. She hates Wyatt almost as much as she hates Princess Lucy. “She and Flynn broke out of prison and are now on the run. We don’t know where they were headed, but since they don’t have access to a time machine, they’re not a priority. And I doubt they’ll be any kind of threat as we move forward.” She pauses again and chuckles to herself because of the dumbfounded expression on Wyatt’s face. She figures he’s still thinking about how Lucy may have fucked Garcia Flynn. “Lucy was falling in love with you, you know?”

“Yeah… I know.”

“Once we find out where they are, your orders are to get Lucy away from Flynn. Bring her back to the bunker. Get involved with the bitch. And as soon as she trusts you… kill her.”

“Why not kill her on sight?” Wyatt asks.

“Because I want her to suffer. I want her to trust the man that puts a bullet between her eyes.” Emma smiles. “Your pals, Rufus and Jiya… they’re making friends with Wendell Scott so you might want to catch up to them before they catch up with you and see you talking nice with the enemy.”

Wyatt nods his head and looks toward Ryan, the men acknowledge a silent goodbye with a nod of their heads. Emma watches Wyatt as he hurries out of the garage.

\-----

 _Cleanest bathrooms in the nation_ … Lucy rolls her eyes, scoffing at the most well-known claim to fame of the Buc-ee’s gas station franchise. She looks down, scraping her foot against the white tile floor of the public restroom to rid her shoe of a stray piece of toilet paper.

She shakes her head and looks at herself in the mirror.

She barely recognizes herself now that she’s had time to steal some makeup and do herself up with dark eyeliner, light pink lipstick and just a touch of blush on her cheeks. Her hair falls naturally around her shoulders and she tells herself that she really should put it up. Her mother always told her that a woman looked more professional and would be taken more seriously if her hair was pulled back.

Lucy sighs and lowers her eyes.

She and Garcia have been on the road since five o’clock this morning. Neither one of them slept well last night after her Rittenhouse revelations. And she suspects that it’s possible he hasn’t slept at all. When she suggested they pull over so she could drive for a while to let him rest, he insisted that he had slept well enough and didn’t mind driving. His excessive yawning and intake of coffee tell another story.

Once they got out of the Chihuahuan Desert, they stopped at a strip mall in Las Cruces and swapped out their stolen truck for another. Then shoplifting clothes and makeup from a department store so they could pass themselves off as FBI once they arrive at Garcia’s mother’s home in Houston later today.

Well… clothes that Lucy could wear to pass herself off as a FBI agent as Garcia waits in the car for Lucy to determine if reuniting with his mother is a safe option for them both.

Lucy runs her hands down the front of her white blouse. She unbuttons the top two buttons and tucks it into her black slacks. She takes the gun holster off the counter and places it around the waist, making sure that her gun is securely fastened to it.

Lucy looks at her reflection again. She looks defeated. She shakes her head and knows that she needs to take a moment to remember who she is fighting for. She holds the locket of her necklace tightly in her hand. She opens it and looks at the pictures of her and her sister inside.

Amy.

She wonders what Amy would think of her now?

Amy.

Her strong-willed and stubborn younger sister who always encouraged her to step out of their mother’s tight hold on her life.

Amy.

Who wanted so desperately for her to follow her own dreams.

To make her own future.

Lucy wonders if Amy would approve of her helping Garcia escape prison. After all, he wasn’t exactly innocent of all the accusations made against him. He stole the Mothership from Mason Industries, a felony. He and his men killed to achieve this.

She doesn’t think that Amy would approve of her growing feelings – love – for Garcia Flynn. Or maybe Amy would applaud her for finally going after what she wants rather than sitting around and waiting for approval or to be told what to do by their mother.

Lucy wants more than anything in the world to sit down with her sister and just talk. Talk about everything that she’s done since that agent from Homeland Security knocked on her door and insisted that she go with him to Mason Industries. She wants to tell Amy about how she shook hands with President Lincoln. She wants to talk out her feelings for Garcia with Amy, to work out the pros and cons of getting involved with him.

Lucy looks at herself in the mirror again and closes the locket.

But right now, the way things are… she has no way to go back to try to save her sister. She has no access to a time machine and might never again. Lucy rests her hands on the counter and lowers her head. She takes a deep breath.

She can’t cry.

She can’t break.

She has to remain strong and fight through this.

She has to fight for her sister.

She takes a deep breath and exhales sharply as she stands up straight and runs her hands through her hair, parting it down the middle as she styles it into a low chignon. She hopes that she looks “FBI” enough to pull this off. Not that she thinks Garcia’s mother will turn her son in to the authorities, but with the risk of Rittenhouse changing history to manipulate the present… they don’t know if they’ve gone back and recruited Maria. And if they did, it’s possibly even a risk for Lucy to talk to her as an “FBI” agent.

Maybe all of this isn’t worth fighting anymore.

_Amy._

Without a time machine there’s nothing that she and Garcia can do.

_Amy._

And if they can’t fight Rittenhouse, maybe they should walk away, disappear, live under new names and start a new life together. It’s not just the past five months that have been difficult, the past year since her mother’s cancer came out of remission, has been rough. Finding out that Henry Wallace wasn’t her biological father, losing her sister, being engaged to a man she didn’t even know… finding out that her mother is Rittenhouse and that she herself is Rittenhouse royalty…

_Amy._

Siding with Garcia Flynn, a man who she once believed was a murderer and a terrorist.

_Amy._

_Amy._

_Amy._

And although things haven’t been perfect these past few days with Garcia, she’s felt alive, cared for, trusted and respected when she’s with him. She feels like finally – for the first time in her life – she is in control. She’s not expected to be a certain way with Garcia. She’s not expected to continue teaching history at her mother’s university.

Now that she’s away from Rittenhouse, she’s free.

She looks at her reflection and thinks back on how she feels when she’s with Garcia.

She’s happy.

She feels guilty for being happy. She shouldn’t feel this way. She should be afraid. Afraid of Garcia Flynn – he was her enemy after all, and upon his arrest he seemed to blame her for not being able to save his wife and daughter. But she isn’t… she can’t bring herself to fear him. Not anymore.

She should be afraid of Rittenhouse. Just because they’ve managed to avoid detection this long, doesn’t mean that they aren’t being followed, or that they won’t be found and taken care of. Perhaps the happiness she feels now is temporary, but regardless, it is something that she can hang onto in a world that is being dismantled and rebuilt by Rittenhouse without her knowledge.

Even this morning, she woke up and wondered if overnight that Rittenhouse had traveled back in time and changed her past, or changed Garcia’s past. She has no way of knowing.

For example, has there always been a President Kennedy? Was he assassinated in Dallas on November the twenty-second in 1963? She remembers overhearing her mother mention that Rittenhouse would be wise to eliminate Kennedy from history so, Lucy assumes that is the history that originally happened. But what if Rittenhouse got to Kennedy? Made him one of their own? Or what if Kennedy wasn’t President in the first place? What if her memory of him comes from altered history? History that Rittenhouse has altered?

She could drive herself crazy thinking about how much history, and how many of her own memories, Rittenhouse could have changed between now and last week.

When she woke up, Garcia was already awake, and she watched him. She watched him carefully to look for any sign that he wasn’t the same Garcia that she had spent the night with, the man who she told almost everything to about her captivity with Rittenhouse. He minded his own business not knowing he was being watched until he approached the bed of the truck to wake her. She listened for intonation in his voice that might suggest he had changed. She felt for any changes in the way he touched her as he helped her off the bed of the truck. She sensed no differences in him and settled on trusting that he had not been changed.

She hates that she doesn’t trust herself, her own memories.

She hates that she fears that she might not be able to trust him.

She hates the uncertainty of knowing that Rittenhouse so easily can change their history. And with Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya dead… and Denise a member of Rittenhouse… there’s no one to stop them. No one to travel back in time and fight them, to defeat them, to erase them from existence.

Lucy can only trust that if she wakes up and Garcia is still with her that Rittenhouse hasn’t gone back and changed anything. Not that she would even know if one day she woke up without him. Or what if the Table of Elders orders their agents to go back in time to take care of her? Garcia would wake up and be back in that prison none the wiser. And it’s not like it would be difficult to accomplish. All Rittenhouse would have to do is go back and ensure that her mother never hooks up with Benjamin Cahill and she would no longer exist. Or they could go back to 2014 with a new team and ensure that Garcia is killed on the same night that they killed his wife and daughter.

Lucy wouldn’t know what to do if one day she woke up alone in the fight against Rittenhouse. At least when she was held captive, she held onto hope that she could manage to fake her way into finding a way to contact Garcia. She knew that even though her friends had died that at least Garcia was still alive. Incarcerated, but alive. And outside of Rittenhouse, he was the only person on this Earth who knew about the organization and who wanted to see them destroyed.

She could do this without him. She was prepared to do whatever it took to destroy their plans. She was playing along with Rittenhouse so that she might be brought along on a mission to change time. If that had happened, she was going to find a way to destroy the Mothership so that it couldn’t be used. She was willing to risk her own life, take her mother’s life, or strand herself forever in the past to get the job done. But as willing as she was to fight this war alone, she prefers his help.

Garcia Flynn is the only one she trusts.

He is the only one she can confide in.

He is the only one who knows exactly what she is going through.

And even though she and Garcia are fugitives, wanted by both the law and Rittenhouse, unloading her pain to him last night has freed her. She knows what happened to her isn’t undone, but saying it aloud, acknowledging what Rittenhouse and her mother did to her, acknowledging what she suffered, and knowing that no matter what happened to her that Garcia isn’t judging her or blaming her for what she went through. How he didn’t touch her as she asked as she recalled her trauma…

She laid in his arms all night. He held her tight and whispered that he loves her and that he’ll never let anything bad happen to her again. And she believes him. She believes that if he had to make a choice _right now_ between her life and destroying Rittenhouse – as foolish as it is – that he would choose her.

After his whispered confession, she didn’t move or say anything to him. She knew that he whispered those things because he thought she was asleep.

His words… _I love you, Lucy_ … soothed her last night.

They made her believe…

But she doesn’t believe in love.

Or maybe she does.

It’s confusing.

She recalls back at the visitation unit at the prison that he told her that his parents met and four months later were married. So, it is possible that you can fall in love and be loved in a short amount of time.

Lucy has never experienced that before. She never loved any of her previous lovers. She used to say “I love you” to men quickly just to get it over with. She never meant what she said. It was all just for show. To give those men what she thought they wanted to hear… an excuse to use those three words to take her to bed, to pretend that what they had between them was love.

That’s why she couldn’t bring herself to tell Garcia she loves him. Because with him, she doesn’t want to just get it over with quickly. With Garcia, she knows it’s a matter of when she’ll say it, not if. And when she does say it, it will be real. She will know for certain that what she feels for him is love. The idea of feeling this way for him scares her.

Love scares her.

She thinks it scares him too.

When they kissed, he let out a cry that broke her heart. He told her that kissing her for the first time since Lorena hurt. He misses Lorena, and Lucy understands that. She even told him that they didn’t have to kiss if he wasn’t ready. But his hands had trembled as he held the back of her head and kissed her again. The memory of Lorena hurt him, but in his kiss, he told Lucy that she is the one he wants. That he’s ready to… move on.

And in that kiss, she felt loved.

She wondered if what she felt was love.

Does he truly love her?

She’s known it so rarely in her life that she doesn’t know.

But is it happening too soon?

Is it really love or just the desire for love?

Is it a need to connect with each other because they are both alone?

Because they both lost their families to Rittenhouse?

She understands that Garcia could fall in love with her through her journal. She gets that. And her heart flutters at the idea that he fell in love with her through her written word, her thoughts, and her knowledge of history. That his attraction to her was intellectual rather than physical – even though the latter is definitely there.

But is it too soon for them to have those feelings for each other?

Are they moving too fast?

She thinks they are, but if Amy were here… gosh, if Amy were here… she’d be telling her to throw herself to love, to give into the feelings she’s having because you only live once, and there’s no reward in not going after what you want in life.

And the way Garcia looks at her, the way he touches her, and how she’s touched him… it makes her heart race and her mind scrambles for ways to make those connections again. Like right now, knowing that he too has changed into a suit to pass himself off as an FBI agent in case he’s spotted sitting in the car outside his mother’s house… the mere thought of him waiting for her outside makes her heart race. She hasn’t seen him in a suit since the day he was arrested and by God! the man looks good in a suit.

Chasing Garcia through time, changing outfits to fit the era, and assuming a new role and identity for each mission, she’s become accustomed to playing whatever role necessary to get the job done. Pretending to be an FBI agent shouldn’t be too difficult.

They stopped in San Marcos earlier today and met with Garcia’s friend, “Bob.” He lives on the outskirts of town in an RV which had security cameras attached to it on all sides. The man was a paranoid son-of-a-bitch with a thick Russian accent. He eyed Lucy with suspicion as if she was an undercover agent trying to bust him for creating false federal IDs, passports, counterfeit money, driver’s licenses, among other equally illegal activities. Lucy wondered how Garcia knew this man, but decided not to ask since she figured she’d rather not know.

“Bob” had her change into her stolen white blouse and black jacket and took her picture. Then he and Garcia spoke in Russian, the only bit of which she understood was when Garcia said hers and Lorena’s names. Later in the car she asked what they were saying and Garcia explained that “Bob” didn’t exactly approve of Garcia spending so much time alone with another woman, that Garcia should do everything he can to save Lorena’s life. Garcia sounded uncomfortable enough explaining this to her that she didn’t doubt him.

It didn’t take long for “Bob” to finish making her fake FBI badge and identification. Garcia talked him into giving him one of his spare Glock 23 guns which apparently is what FBI special agents are currently issued. Garcia checked to make sure it was loaded and handed it to her. She checked that the safety was in place and looked up at Garcia as she placed the gun in the back pocket of her jeans. He winked at her, smiling before turning his attention back to “Bob,” thanking him for his help.

Garcia held his hand on the small of her back as he led her back to their stolen truck.

About a half-hour later, they arrived here, at Buc-ee’s.

Lucy checks her reflection in the mirror one last time and gives herself a smile as assurance that she looks professional enough to pass herself off as a federal agent.

She should really get back to Garcia before he comes in here guns-a-blazing, thinking Rittenhouse has found her. She grabs her clothes and walks out of the restroom. She scans the sales floor of the gas station, looking for Garcia. She doesn’t see him so she makes her way toward the exit, passing a display shelf stocked with Texas merchandise. She picks up a stuffed animal Buc’ee beaver which is dressed in a burgundy t-shirt and matching hat embroidered with the yellow Buc-ee’s logo. She sets it back down and turns around and rifles through Texas t-shirts geared towards the tourist.

A young boy runs past her followed closely by a little girl, they’re playing cops and robbers as their father tries to reign them in. Their father approaches her quickly and bumps into her arm. Lucy’s heart skips a beat as she thinks for just a moment that he’s Rittenhouse and that they’ve been found. She even reaches for the gun that she has holstered against her hip. The father mutters an apology to her and continues chasing after his children.

Lucy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  

 _Are the stars out tonight_  
_I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright_  
_I only have eyes for you dear_  
_Sha bop sha bop_

Lucy smiles as she remembers how Garcia held her hand as they drove east this morning, watching the sun rise ahead of them as this Flamingo’s song played on the radio. They were quiet most of the morning. He held her hand. She ran her thumb over his knuckles, hoping that it translated into how much she appreciated him listening to her last night. He’d glance at her, catch her eye, and smile. She would lean forward to tune the radio and then sit back, resting her head on his shoulder. They didn’t talk but plenty was said between them. More than once she had to stop herself from telling him that she heard him say he loves her. And more than once she had to stop herself from telling him that she thinks that she loves him too.

_Yes, Lucy… you need to talk to Garcia about these feelings and find out what he thinks about how fast things are going. Perhaps it might be wise to slow things down…_

Lucy slows her pace as she passes by freshly made chocolate fudge. She looks around her to make sure she’s not being watched and tucks the bag inside the clothes she’s carrying. She does the same as she passes a shelf with cans of chips and a couple bottles of water.

She makes her way outside where she sees Garcia leaning against their black truck. He is staring out toward the highway and hasn’t noticed her approaching. Just as she expected, he looks good in his sunglasses and black suit. His jacket is off and hanging over his arm.

“Hey.” She says quietly.

“Hey.”

He offers his hand to her to help her up into the truck.

He yawns.

“That’s it.” Lucy says as she inches over to the driver’s side. “I’m driving.”

“Lucy…”

“Don’t argue this with me, get in.”

He doesn’t argue with her. He knows that he’s managed to drive more than his share since she helped him escape prison. He knows that he needs to rest and since they aren’t about to embark on another high-speed chase and shootout well… he might as well take the opportunity to rest his eyes. But he won’t dare fall asleep, not until they are someplace safe for the night. He checks his watch. The sun doesn’t start to set for another couple of hours. And depending on when they get to his mother’s home will determine if they’ll stop there tonight or tomorrow.

He buckles his seatbelt and settles into his seat as Lucy merges onto the highway. He watches her as she adjusts the rearview mirror as she messes with a strand of hair that has come loose from her chignon. He leans back against the door and smiles.

_God, she’s beautiful._

The past few days Lucy hasn’t worn makeup, and now she’s done herself up with dark eyeliner, neutral pink lipstick and a light coat of blush to accent her cheekbones. Her hair is pulled back in a chignon that draws his eyes to her dancer’s neck. She’s gorgeous. He smiles as she glances over at him. He crosses his arms across his chest, closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

\-----

Jiya would rather be anywhere else but here.

She’s stuck in the back of a 1950s racecar trunk with Wyatt Logan.

The car hits a bump in the road and Wyatt falls on top of her. It’s awkward, of course, and being so close to him is not… Jiya raises her brow… _is that his hand resting on my hip?_ She pushes Wyatt’s hand away... Being so close to him is not preferable. The car hits another bump in the road and Jiya groans, wishing Wendell Scott would drive faster. He is a racecar driver after all.

“Why don’t you just hang onto me?” Wyatt says less as a question and more as a request.

Jiya’s face scrunches as she turns her head to look at him and their noses bump together. She jolts as far away from him as she can. But he places his hand on her waist and pulls her back toward him.

“Don’t want to bump things around too much, Jiya. We get stopped, hiding like we’re moonshine is the only thing keeping us from getting caught.” He says, winking at her.

“Yeah, and I can smell the moonshine on your breath. Denise isn’t going to be happy to find out you were drinking on the job.” Jiya says, pushing her hands against his chest to try to get away from his grip on her.

“What is it with you today anyway?” He asks, frustrated. “You looked at me weird all through breakfast and didn’t say a word to me until the Mothership jumped.”

“Maybe I didn’t feel like talking.” Jiya says.

“You talked with Rufus, Connor and Agent Christopher just fine.”

Jiya ignores him and turns her head the other way. The fact is that ever since she had her vision earlier this morning, she’s been cautious around Wyatt. In her vision she heard him speaking with Emma Whitmore – Flynn’s pilot. She’s afraid that Wyatt is in cahoots with Emma, and that they have kidnapped Lucy for reasons she doesn’t yet understand. She turns her head quickly and looks Wyatt directly in his baby blue eyes.

“Have you ever spoken with Emma Whitmore?” She asks bluntly.

Wyatt shifts nervously and clears his throat to try to cover his discomfort. Her question is unexpected as she would have no way of knowing that yes, he knows Emma.

“Flynn’s pilot?” He pauses. “I know of her because of Rufus.” Jiya watches Wyatt’s face, looking for any indication that he’s lying to her. He smiles and tightens his grip around her waist. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Jiya’s not ready to reveal to anyone that she’s been having visions ever since her trip back with the team from 1954. Also… she’s not oblivious to his tells. She heard him clear his throat and heard the hesitation in his voice as he answered her question. Men are so stupid, thinking they can lie when they so clearly cannot. This only means that she needs to be careful about what she tells Wyatt. If he is in on… whatever it is that she saw and heard in her vision, he might not be safe.

If only she had clarification of what the Hell is going on.

And she was going to keep pushing him about Emma, but not anymore. If he is part of something bad going on with Lucy then… she needs to keep her thoughts to herself, or at least figure out when and how to talk to Rufus and Denise about what she’s been experiencing. But she should at least ease any unease that he has with her about that Emma Whitmore question. Jiya opens her mouth to say something just as the car hits another bump on the road and Jiya hates that she instinctively reaches out to hang onto Wyatt’s shoulder because now he’s holding her closer to his body.

“Get your hands off of me, Wyatt.” She orders him.

Not wanting to piss her off, Wyatt removes his hands from her. Jiya is no Lucy Preston, if he took his actions much further, he’s fairly certain she would break his nose with her fist.

Jiya lets out a loud huff and turns to face him.

“Ok, listen. I’ve been weird around you since this morning because I had this weird dream where you met with Emma and she asked you if you knew Lucy was falling in love with you, and then told you to kill her once you get her back to the bunker, after you get involved with her.”

Ok, so perhaps being discreet isn’t in Jiya’s nature. She’s always been outspoken. Oh well.

Wyatt clenches his jaw.

That is exactly the conversation he had with Emma less than an hour ago. How the Hell could she know this? And it came to her in a dream? Wyatt does his best to conceal his reaction. He remains quiet so that she’ll continue.

“In my dream, I heard gunfire. I woke up and when I opened my bunk door… you were there. It made me paranoid that maybe my dream wasn’t just a dream, and that it was something that had actually happened.” Jiya tells him.

Wyatt nods his head, “Good thing it was just a dream, huh?”

Jiya doesn’t say anything which concerns Wyatt. He thinks he should report this conversation back to Emma to let her know that somehow Jiya had a dream about what they talked about. He knows that time travel is unpredictable, and Jiya did suffer seizures when she traveled back to 1954 with them, and maybe her dream is connected to that, or maybe it isn’t. He’ll let someone else figure out what to do about it. Jiya’s dreams are not his responsibility.

The car slows and comes to a stop.

“Looking for some unfamiliars. A white boy and some Indian girl, and a negro. Took a run at Millerson.” A man speaks to Wendell. His words are muffled and hard to hear, but Wyatt and Jiya remain silent in the trunk of the car. “I know you?”

“That’s George,” Wendell Scott answers. “My cousin. On my pit crew, you’ve seen him half a dozen times.”

“How’s it going, Carl? We don’t all look alike, you know.” Rufus adds to authenticate the lie.

“Anyway, gotta search your trunk.”

“Look, man. I’m in a rush, but uh… give you ten bucks, you let us skate on by and-”

BOOM!

There’s an explosion nearby that rattles the car. Instinctively, Wyatt throws his body on top of Jiya’s to protect her. He may be a Rittenhouse agent, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t grown to care for his teammates and view them as friends, even if secretly they are his enemies.

“What the Hell was that?” Jiya asks.

“I don’t know.”

Outside they hear the scuttle of men running. There’s shouting, chaos, and the sound of fire engine sirens blaring as firemen make their way through the crowd that was gathering for this afternoon’s race.

The trunk to the car is opened and Rufus reaches in and helps Jiya out, practically picking her up in his arms and checking her over to make sure she hasn’t been hurt.

“Rufus, I’m fine.” Jiya assures him, brushing off dust and dirt she picked up on the floor of the racecar trunk.

“There was an explosion at the racetrack.” Rufus tells them, looking from Jiya to Wyatt with wide-eyes. “I know this is just a guess, but… guys… I think we failed this mission.”

Jiya and Rufus exchange looks, uncertain what that will mean for the present they will return to. Jiya wraps her arm around Rufus’s waist as the three of them – she, Rufus, and Wyatt – watch as a large plume of smoke comes from the VIP stand next to the Darlington racetrack.

Wyatt swallows hard. He knows. He knows that Ryan Millerson – his friend and the man he grew up      idolizing - is dead. Ryan Millerson didn’t wait to detonate the bomb during the race, and in that act he      saved the lives of many spectators, while taking the lives of the men here representing Ford, GM and Chrysler. The men Rittenhouse specifically wanted removed from history.

Rittenhouse will take control of Detroit.

\-----

Lucy glances at the digital display next to the truck radio to check the time. It’s just past five-thirty in the evening. She’s been paranoid the entire drive since Garcia fell asleep. She’s constantly checking the rearview mirror for Mason Viribus cars, or Black Hawk helicopters in the sky. She’s thankful that every time they’ve had to steal a car that Garcia knew how to find and dismantle the RH1955 GPS tracking device that has come standard in all American-made cars since 1973.

The American public had been told that the RH1955 device wasn’t being used to monitor their movement within their hometowns or across the country. They were told that it was a safety requirement in case your car slid into a river or lake so that emergency vehicles could be dispatched to your location to help. But when Lucy was held captive in Rittenhouse, she learned that yes, the device has been used to save lives, but it would allow Rittenhouse to control any car built in the United States from 1973 forward. If Rittenhouse was in pursuit, all they had to do was hone in on the RH1955 and they could lock you inside your car, and bring it to a stop. Rittenhouse could listen in on your conversations with this device. It was just another way to invoke fear in members of their group who may have doubts about what they were doing.

No one could run away. Not unless they knew how to find and dismantle the device immediately.

Lucy shakes her head, remembering how Garcia – before they were even out of the prison compound – stopped their car, got out, slid underneath the car and dismantled the thing all while being shot at by prison guards. Lucy holds her hand over a gauze bandage on her forearm where she was shot while he was dismantling the RH1955 device from their getaway car. As they sped away, he had apologized profusely that she got shot, as if his apology would make it hurt less. Of course, it didn’t, and he had to patch her up without any anesthetics at the first stop they made.

But she couldn’t be angry with him for dismantling the thing. Because for sure, if Garcia hadn’t known how to do it, they would have been caught by Rittenhouse by now. He would be dead and she would face punishment determined by the Table of Elders. And she knows that they would send her immediately back to 1725 to be raped by Byron Rittenhouse so that their founder could be born.

Lucy’s heartbeat races and she tries to calm herself with several deep breaths.

She glances over at Garcia.

He’s still asleep.

She needs to wake him up but he has done so much for her that she would hate to disturb him when he looks at peace. But they are about one hour out from Houston and she doesn’t know where his mother lives, and she really doesn’t want to have to navigate Houston traffic during evening rush hour.

She turns on the radio and searches for something to listen to. The volume just loud enough that it might wake him.

 _Come, come on now, follow my lead_  
_I’m in love with the shape of you_  
_We push and pull like a magnet do_  
_Although my heart is falling too_  
_I’m in love with your body_

Lucy taps her fingers on the steering wheel and looks at Garcia to see if he’s waking up.

He’s not.

 _And last night you were in my room_  
_And now my bedsheets smell like you_  
_Every day discovering something brand new_  
_I’m in love with your body_

“Oh—I—oh—I—oh—I—oh—I… I’m in love with your body.” Lucy sings along with the Ed Sheeran hit that’s dominated the charts this year. She glances at Garcia. Still no signs of life.

She reaches over and pokes his arm with her finger.

“Garcia.”

He readjusts his position against the passenger side window as if he wants to cuddle with it. Lucy pokes at him again.

“Garcia.” She says his name louder.

“Hm?”

He slowly opens his eyes and then remembering where he is, he sits up and rubs his hands over his eyes.

“How long was I out?”

“About an hour.”

Garcia arches his back and stretches his arms behind his head. He groans and twists his back from one side to the other.

“We can pull over and I can drive the rest of the way, if you want?” He offers.

“I’d like that.” She smiles. “My eyes are tired and I really don’t want to have to drive in rush hour traffic.”

He chuckles and points at a road sign.

“We don’t have much money, but do you want to stop at that Whataburger and grab something to eat?” He asks. “That way we can get out of the truck, stretch a bit, grab something to eat and use the restroom before I tackle rush hour traffic.”

Lucy nods her head in agreement. “So… did you grow up in Houston?” Lucy asks as she flips on the blinker and pulls off the highway.

“Once or twice, not for long. My uh… my family moved around a lot when I was growing up. My dad was with the army so most of my youth was spent in Europe and Croatia.” He points at himself. “Hence the accent.” He smiles at Lucy. “I assume that you grew up in California?”

“You assume or you know?” Lucy asks, raising her eyebrow, wondering how much information he knows about her from the journal.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“What for?”

“Bringing up things that I know about you from the journal.” He sits up straight and licks his lips. “I know that must make you uncomfortable and that’s not my intention.”

“I don’t mind. I mean… it’s weird, but… it’s ok.” She pauses as she parks in the parking lot of a Whataburger fast food restaurant. “I was born and raised in California. The only trips outside the state that I took were historical vacations.” She shuts off the engine. “I always dreamt of moving to Washington D.C. or to Chicago or Paris, but I did whatever my mom asked of me. The only time that I…” Lucy opens the door and gets out of the truck, as does Garcia. “… the only time that I seriously considered moving out of California was to take my dream job at this small university in Ohio.”

“Ohio?” Garcia asks as he matches her stride as they make their way inside the restaurant. He holds the door open for her and she ducks under his arm to pass him.

“Classes wouldn’t have had more than twenty students… no large lecture halls… just an intimate learning environment where I could give more attention to all my students, learn their names even. As much fun as it can be lecturing a couple hundred students it was… it was so impersonal.”

Garcia nods his head and gestures for her to go ahead of him to order.

They sit at a table in the far end of this Whataburger restaurant. Garcia sits in the corner which gives him a good overall view of the restaurant. They haven’t had any problems with Rittenhouse or law enforcement finding them, but that doesn’t mean that ten seconds from now they’re found and a shootout ensues. And he really doesn’t want to have a shootout with Rittenhouse or the police in a restaurant filled with kids and their families.

Their orange and white order number sits on the edge of their table as they wait for their meals to be brought out to them.

Lucy sips at her soda and watches Garcia. He hasn’t said a lot since they got out of the truck, and she wonders what’s on his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts.” She says.

He extends his hand as if expecting her to hand him a penny. She looks at him and blinks. Has he not heard of that expression before? Then he starts laughing, waving his hand in front of his face. The sound of his laughter and the smile on his face erases ten years from his appearance. Lucy smiles and rolls her eyes at herself.

“You should have seen your face, Lucy.” He laughs. “For a minute there I thought you were going to start looking around for a penny to give me.” He takes a sip of his drink and leans back against the back of the booth.

“I mean it… you’ve been really quiet since we sat down and I just… if it doesn’t bother you to share… I just want to know what you’re thinking about.” She tells him.

“My mom.” He pauses and the smile starts to fade from his face. “I just… I don’t know what to expect, Lucy. Back at the prison, before I knew it was you who had come to visit me, I thought I was going to see her again. I want to, but then there’s this part of me that worries that she’s not the same woman who raised me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Remember when you managed to leave 1754 and followed me to 1969, the day of the moon landing?”

“Mmmhm.”

“I was supposed to have an older half-brother, but he died before I was born. On that day, in 1969, while Anthony was taking care of things at NASA, I went to my mom… met my brother when he was only six years old. I climbed up the balcony and gave my brother a shot of epinephrine to save his life after he was stung by a bee.” He pauses. “Wyatt was there. He didn’t tell you?”

“No… we… Agent Christopher brought us your unredacted file after that mission.” Lucy rubs the back of her neck. “Your brother, Gabriel… he lives in Paris now. I don’t know if you knew that.”

Garcia nods his head, he knows. He takes a breath and continues.

“Anyway, growing up all I remember is how sad my mom was all the time. She rarely laughed. My father loved her and loved me, and took care of us. And… I was in the first grade and came home one day with an assignment about the moon landing.”

Garcia pauses as a Whataburger employee approaches them and sets a bright orange tray on the table between them.

“Two number thirteens with Texas toast and gravy.” The girl smiles at them. “Would you like any ketchup?”

Garcia sits up a little taller and asks for a couple packets of Whataburger’s famous spicy ketchup. The girl hands him five and tells them to enjoy their meal.

Garcia holds out one of the spicy ketchup packs to Lucy, she waves her hand to let him know she’s fine with good ol’ regular ketchup. She picks up a French fry and eats it plain.

Garcia picks up his Texas toast and rips it in half and eats.

“So, I come home with this moon landing assignment and ask my mom where she was the day Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walked on the moon, and she looks at me and just starts crying. And I’m just seven years old so I don’t know what’s going on, so I start crying too. She takes me in her arms and tells me that I didn’t do anything wrong because I’m apologizing over and over again. She sits me down and tells me that before I was born that she had another little boy, and that his name was Gabriel, and he got stung by a bee and died. That she missed the moon landing because she was at the hospital hoping doctors would be able to save him.” He takes a bite out of a French fry that he drenches in the spicy ketchup. “After that, she didn’t try to hide her sadness from me.” He shakes his head. “I can’t even remember what her smile looks like anymore, or what her laugh sounds like.”

“Garcia…” Lucy reaches across the table and touches his arm.

“And I know that when I had the Mothership that I should have been one-hundred percent focused on destroying Rittenhouse, but… I couldn’t… I just couldn’t not do anything to make a better life for my mom.” He places his hand on top of Lucy’s. “I never thought I’d see my mom again after that trip. I knew that Wyatt was supposed to be a highly-skilled Delta Force soldier, and that if he was told to kill me that he would kill me. I just hoped that wouldn’t happen until after I saved my girls and destroyed Rittenhouse. Then I got arrested, locked away, and then you show up and…” He smiles at her then says, “… you tried to kill me during your prison visit, and the rest is on-going.”

“You know that I really wasn’t trying to kill you.” She lowers her eyes and lets go of his hand, still feeling ashamed for her actions a few nights ago at the prison.

“I know…”

Lucy dips one of her chicken strips into the gravy and eats it.

“I keep wondering, Lucy… how Gabriel being alive has changed my mom. What if I’m different from the son she raised because the Garcia Flynn she knows grew up with an older brother.”

“You really took a chance when you saved your brother’s life, didn’t you?” Lucy says, reaching for her drink.

“How’s that?”

“Think about it… what if your mom decided she didn’t want any more kids when she met your father? After you saved your brother you could have just disappeared before her eyes moments after you saved your brother.”

“Is that how erasing yourself from history works?” He asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows. I figure that if you’re erased that you’ll either disappear, like how Marty McFly started to disappear in Back To The Future, or you don’t fade away and return to the present to a world that never knew you.” Lucy leans back against the back of the booth and looks at Garcia. “You mean to tell me that you never once considered the consequences of your actions in saving him?”

“No.” Garcia shakes his head. “I was… I was out of control then, a man desperate to make things right. Consequences were nothing to me so long as I got results. If I died, or if I was erased, trying to save the world from Rittenhouse, to save the ones I love then… I was willing to accept that.”

“Speaking of desperation…” Lucy says, knowing this isn’t the best segue. Garcia motions for her to continue. “Not to completely change the subject, but… to completely change the subject…” Lucy wets her lips, obvious that she’s nervous. “Us… this thing going on between us.” She stops and looks at him, not sure how to proceed.

He locks eyes with her.

“It’s been two months since you blamed me for your arrest, and five months since we met at the Hindenburg, and…” She lowers her head. “I was thinking earlier that maybe things between us are moving too fast.”

Garcia regards her with a sadness in his eyes, he licks his lips and asks, “What are you trying to say, Lucy?”

“I’m not saying that we shouldn’t keep talking and getting to know each other. I want to get to know you. What I’m trying to say is… maybe we should slow things down… you know, with the touching… sleeping in the same bed together… the kissing…” She trails off. Her heart pounds in her chest. She both regrets and doesn’t regret bringing this up.

Garcia takes this in and slowly nods his head.

“I’m sorry.” Lucy reaches out and touches his arm again. “I just… I think we need to give it time, see how we really feel after everything settles.”

“Everything?” His voice is soft.

“Rittenhouse… time travel…” Lucy pauses, she can see the disappointment in his eyes. The same disappointment she now feels in her heart. “After our kiss last night… how it hurt you to kiss me because you thought of Lorena … maybe you need time to figure things out too.” She speaks from her heart. If she’s ever going to get involved with Garcia, she needs to know for certain that he has chosen her without feelings of guilt about his deceased wife. And she doesn’t want Garcia to discard his love for Lorena. She would never ask nor expect that of him. She just… they need time. Especially after how hectic everything has been that led up to last night’s kissing indiscretion.

He nods his head and looks at her.

“We can step back, cool things off.” He smiles at her, his eyes shimmering. “It’s probably best that we do since we should be focused on Rittenhouse and how we’re going to defeat them without a time machine.” He fails to cover his disappointment.

“It would be irresponsible of us to worry more about what’s happening between us rather than focusing on Rittenhouse.” Lucy agrees, sounding uncertain of this decision they’re making. “Plus… maybe our feelings for each other aren’t genuine and the only way we’ll know is to just… sit on it for a while… see where we stand when all of _this_ is over.”

Their eyes lock as they nod uncomfortably to each other to indicate that they agree that they are on the same page. Lucy looks away and can’t bring herself to look at him for the rest of their meal.

\-----

Maria Thompkins-Flynn may be seventy-one years old, but no one would dare to call her an old lady.  Her laugh is as cheerful as a sparrow and her smile as bright as the Texas sun. Her hair has turned from brunette into a beautiful silver, and she has kept it long below her shoulders for most of her years.

She’s a stubborn woman who, despite her eldest son’s encouragement, has insisted she won’t retire from her work until she is physically and mentally incapable of “hauling my little butt out of bed and driving myself to work.”

Maria sits at her desk in her office at NOVUS headquarters in Houston. She’s a small woman, thin. She wears a pale yellow turtleneck to help keep her warm. Sure, it’s March in Texas and they’re maybe a month away from the unbearable Texas summer heat, but she’s always cold. Whether it’s spring, summer, fall or winter, she can always be found wearing long sleeves or wearing a lightweight jacket when indoors.

Maria is going over blueprints and pauses to adjust the reading glasses on her nose. She picks up a pencil and works out an equation on a pad of paper to her right. She quickly erases an error and jots down the correct answer. She looks at her wristwatch. She should have left here an hour ago, but as is typical of Maria Thompkins-Flynn, she doesn’t clock out until she feels she’s done all she can to accomplish the day’s goals. She sets down her pencil and closes her notepad, removing her glasses and setting them down on her desk.

Her eyes wander over to a framed photo she has of her sons, Gabriel and Garcia. It was taken nearly a decade ago when the family got together in Cassis in Aix-en-Provence, France for a couple weeks’ vacation in August of 2007. Lorena, of course accompanied Garcia on the trip, and it was there on the coast of France that Garcia finally proposed to her. Maria smiles, remembering how she dragged Gabriel with her to spy on them from afar with binoculars. There was no way that she was going to miss out on witnessing the proposal she had predicted years earlier, and she made Gabriel shoot candid photos of Garcia down on one knee, and embracing Lorena so she could present them with the photos on their wedding day the following year. In fact, one of the candid pictures of Garcia down on one knee, proposing to Lorena, sits framed here on her desk.

Maria smiles fondly, remembering her daughter-in-law. She misses her and little Iris so much. She kisses her fingertips and places them on the framed photos.

She turns around in her chair and starts closing out of software on her computer. She pauses on the internet browser that she has open. She had been reading an article about Garcia’s recent prison escape with some woman named Lucy Preston in the Houston Chronicle.

_Every memory I have of you, you were always sad…_

Maria sighs and closes out of the browser. She starts to collect her personal items, placing them into her purse.

_I know what it’s like to lose a child. I didn’t want you to lose yours…_

Maria thinks of that day back in 1969 often, ever since the accusations started to fly about how he murdered his dear Lorena and his little Iris that fateful night in December 2014.

_It was good to see you again._

Maria has eidetic memory.

She will never forget the face of the man who saved her little Gabriel’s life. The way his hair was parted to the left of his face, the length of his sideburns which didn’t grow below his earlobe, the length and shape of his nose, the wrinkle in his brow, the crow’s feet etched into the corner of his eyes, and the light stubble above his lip and on his chin. She can still close her eyes and see the color of his red-burgundy shirt and how he left only the top button undone, and the khaki color of his jacket, and the blue pants he wore on that historical day in July 1969.

She watched her son, Garcia, grow up and transform into the man she only knew as “John.” All of his life, she often thought she knew his eyes, ever since the day he was born. She thought maybe she had dreamt of him when he was in her womb, but when he grew into a man, she saw the eyes of the man who saved Gabriel’s life. And suddenly “John’s” words made sense to her… he had memories of her, he didn’t want her to lose a child if he could _change_ it, and that he said it was good to see her again.

The theory and wonder surrounding the idea of time travel had fascinated her since she was a child and read _The Time Machine_ by H.G. Wells – a book, by the way, that she still reads at least once each year. That novella is the reason she studied to be an engineer. It is the reason she studied physics and it is the reason why – as President of NOVUS – that she is leading the construction and technical implementation of the company’s first time machine.

Her memory of seeing her adult younger son in 1969 is what motivated her to develop this technology. And there was no pomp and circumstance about it. The project is “eyes only” and highly classified. No government agent even knows about it. In fact, less than twelve people know of the project’s existence.

A project she named Kroz Vrijeme – Croatian for “through time.”

Maria slings her purse over her shoulder and exits her office, stepping out into a larger warehouse facility. She walks toward the stairs and looks out on her company’s untested time machine. It sits majestically in the middle of the warehouse. A warehouse that is situated two-hundred feet below ground for security purposes. It is sleek and spherical in design and has reflective metal so that it can blend in with its surroundings – a design function to help hide the time machine whenever it is ready to travel back in time.

Ever since she looked into the eyes of her son and saw in him the man who saved Gabriel, she hasn’t been able to let it go. She thinks that she understands how time travel works. If something is changed in the past, it stabs like a knife through time. Garcia saved Gabriel, therefore Gabriel is still alive now in 2017. This means that Garcia won’t have a need for a time machine again to go back and save his brother because in the changed timeline, it has already been done.

But her scientific curiosity about _how_ time travel is possible wouldn’t let her let this go, and in the mid-1990s, she began her own research on time travel and compiled only those she trusted most to aid her on the project. Garcia doesn’t need a time machine anymore, at least not to save his brother, but she also can’t shake from the back of her mind that perhaps there is a greater need for time travel.

Call it mother’s intuition, and she doesn’t understand why she feels this way, just that she does. But she’s driven to succeed, more so now that her son had been imprisoned and was aided in his escape by _a history professor at Stanford University who has an undisclosed history with the terrorist,_ _Lucy Preston._

Maria can’t shake the feeling that something more is going on. Something more than the press knows. Garcia would never have killed Lorena and Iris. She knew from the moment she got the phone call telling her that he had, that it wasn’t true, that he had been framed. And since his escape from prison she has talked to not only The Houston Chronicle, but the FBI, and the RPIO – the Rittenhouse Private Investigative Organization.

Yes, something was up and though she doesn’t know what it is. She has a feeling that time travel is involved. After all… imagine a world where multiple organizations built time machines. How sought after would those machines be among the governments of the world, or terrorist organizations?

Maria has just scanned her NOVUS identification badge and is readying herself for a retina scan to leave for the evening. She’s approached by a man who is wearing a black jumpsuit with the silver lemniscate – the infinity symbol – NOVUS logo on the front pocket.

“Maria!” He runs up to her, not wanting to miss her before she retires for the evening. “I just spoke with Aaron and he wanted me to let you know that the machine just passed its tertiary round of safety tests and he thinks that it should be ready for its first trial run next week, or at the very latest two weeks from now.”

Maria smiles at the man and crosses her arms across her chest.

“Now… remind me, Mike… who was it that bet against me that it would be at least another six months before trial runs could be made?”

“Haha! We never shook on that bet.” He laughs. “Nice try though.”

“You have a good night, Mike, and tell Cindy and the kids that I say hi.”

Maria pats Mike on the shoulder, submits to her retina scan and steps into the elevator that will take her up to the parking lot two-hundred feet above. Maria stands alone in the elevator and thinks about how she really ought to get someone to install speakers so that the trip back up to the surface isn’t so boring. They could play your typical elevator music – and she would consider doing that just for one day as a joke on her employees, but really, she would want some classic rock and roll from the sixties and seventies. It’s not that the elevator ride is unbearably long, it takes about a minute to reach the surface, it’s just so quiet.

The elevator door opens and she steps out into another secure area. A security officer stands and even though he knows her, and though she’s _leaving_ the building he still asks to see her credentials and asks her to walk through a body scanner and metal detector. As she does, he rummages through her purse to check for any items that should not leave the building. Satisfied, he hands back her purse and wishes her a good evening.

Maria walks through the lobby of NOVUS headquarters and makes her way outside to her car. She reminds herself that she needs to stop by the grocery store on her way home because she forgot to pick up a can of diced tomatoes for her spaghetti sauce. She buckles her seatbelt, turns on the radio and goes through another round of security before exiting the compound. She lowers the visor as the sun is setting and she heads home.


	7. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garcia Flynn reunites with his mother as he and Lucy deal with the fallout of their decision to cool things off between them.

The laughter rolls right out of Lucy as Maria Thompkins places her hand on Lucy’s knee. The two women are sitting hip-to-hip on the couch in Maria’s living room, flipping through an old photo album. Lucy runs her finger over an old photograph of Garcia Flynn as an eight-month old baby, sitting in the kitchen sink getting a bath. His father, Asher, is also in the photo and is styling a glob of soap suds on top of Garcia’s head.

“Asher loved him so much, Lucy.” Maria tells her. “I wish he was still alive so you could meet him too. But I tell you, that man was as stubborn as a goat.” Maria smiles at Lucy. “A trait that I’m sure you’ve seen is quite prominent in my little Garcia, hm?”

“Many times before, ma’am.” Lucy says with a smile.

“Oh! Pish posh, Lucy… you can call me Maria. You helped save my little boy from his death sentence! You’re practically family!” Maria takes the photo album and places it on the oak coffee table in front of them. She turns to Lucy and holds both her hands. “Now, knowing my boy, he’s probably sitting out there in that car worried sick about you.”

Lucy moves to look at a watch that isn’t on her wrist.

“How long have we been talking?” Lucy asks.

“Just over an hour.” Maria sighs and stands up. “Now, go out there and let him know that you two are perfectly safe here with me. I’ve already talked to all those nosy journalists and the feds and I promised that if he showed up that I’d let them know, but I’m a very good liar, Lucy. I would never turn in my son. Not unless I knew for certain he was guilty, which you and I both know he isn’t.”

“And you’re sure that you’re not being surveilled?”

“Not likely. Because of my job, I have countermeasures in place all over my home. Countermeasures that haven’t been released to the government, just a little something I made for myself and a few people that I work closely with at NOVUS.” Maria smiles. “Anyhow, if I was being surveilled, the authorities for sure would have arrested you both by now, don’t you think?”

Lucy nods her head. She has no reason to doubt this woman, she’s shown no signs of not being more than truthful with her. And to be honest, Lucy is worried about Garcia. He’s been sitting out in that car alone for far too long. Lucy stands up and Maria holds onto Lucy’s forearm as she walks her to the door. She pauses and looks at Lucy.

“Do I feel a bandage underneath your jacket?” Maria asks, trying to roll up Lucy’s sleeve.

“I was shot, a graze really, when we escaped prison grounds. It’s nothing. I mean… it hurts, but all things considered, it’s nothing. Garcia took good care of me.” Lucy explains.

“Of course, he did.” Maria smiles at Lucy knowingly.

Never one to like any woman that Garcia brought home to meet her – with one exception, Lorena – Maria has taken an immediate liking to Lucy. In the last hour, she’s learned enough about what Lucy and Garcia have been through the last three days to know, without even needing to see them interact together, that these two are love birds in the making.  

“Now, go let him know to collect your things and bring them inside.” Maria pauses and thinks to herself _absence makes the heart grow_ _fonder._ She smiles and adds, “I’ve got two spare bedrooms, let Garcia know that I said you get the one with the attached bathroom.”

Lucy’s heart sinks as she realizes that Maria expects her and Garcia to sleep in different rooms, and in different beds. And she knows that earlier this evening that they agreed that they would cool things down, but she did hold onto a little hope that if Maria wasn’t going to turn them in that they would be able to stay with her and be forced to share a bedroom. If not that, then he’d take the couch and she’d be able to pretend to be thirsty in the middle of the night, come downstairs and tell him that he should just come up and join her in her bed. But it seems that is off the table now.

“We don’t have many things of our own to bring in.” Lucy tells her.

“Then we’ll have to do some shopping then, won’t we?” Maria winks at her, stepping aside as Lucy opens the front door so that if her son is watching the house, he won’t see her as Lucy exits.

Lucy shuts the door behind her and smiles. She steps out into the darkness and takes in a deep breath of the cool night air. She knew that Garcia’s recollection of his mother might be different than the Maria of this timeline where her eldest son’s life was saved in 1969, but Lucy did not expect Maria to feel like an old friend after just an hour of speaking to her. It felt good to sit in her company and talk, and laugh over stories of young Garcia Flynn. It almost felt like the time before all of this. Back before she learned time travel was real and everything in her life fell apart in the blink of an eye.  

Maria feels familiar and safe.

She feels like family.

Lucy blinks back tears and smiles as she looks both ways before crossing the street to where their car is parked. After she and Garcia had their dinner at the Whataburger, they stopped for gas and stole a silver Honda Sedan because it looked more “FBI” than a pickup truck. She sees his silhouette in the car, he’s staring out the windshield, and looks deep in thought. He sits up straight when she opens the door and sits down next to him. She shuts the car door and places her hands in her lap.

Garcia looks at her expectantly but doesn’t say a word. All this time, he’s been sitting out here alone thinking the worst. He thought that Lucy was in there as long as she was because his mother was open to talking to the feds about her son, and agreeing to contact authorities should he show up with Lucy Preston. In the last few minutes, he’d even started to worry that Rittenhouse has surveilled his mother’s home, or that they were already inside, having captured Lucy and were just waiting for him to bust through the door to rescue her.

He looks at Lucy now and he doesn’t know what to say. She’s quiet and looking down at her hands. He feels as if he’s been punched in the gut. That can’t mean good news. Lucy’s probably determined that it isn’t safe for them to stay with his mother and they need to get the hell out of here before his mom realizes that she had been talking to Lucy Preston, whose name and face has been plastered next to his all over the news. He looks away from Lucy as he feels tears sting his eyes.

“I guess we should get going.” He says as he sparks the wires to start the engine.

Lucy turns in her seat and looks at Garcia. He refuses to look at her so she reaches out and touches his face. He turns, and their eyes meet. Although it is dark, the interior of the car is illuminated by a nearby streetlamp. Lucy sees a tear fall down his cheek.

“Garcia…” She smiles. “It’s ok.”

He blinks and takes a sharp breath, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his suit coat.

Lucy looks down and places her hand on top of his and gives him a small squeeze. He turns off the engine and looks down at her. His eyes say everything. He’s relieved, terrified, and unsure of himself.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“It’s ok.” Her voice is a whisper. She inches closer to him. “It’s ok… Garcia.” She runs her thumb over his knuckles to soothe him. “It’s ok…”

“Lucy, I… I don’t know… how am I supposed to go in there and look her in the eye and…” He shakes his head and lowers his eyes. He’s ashamed of the things that he’s been publicly accused of – guilty or not.

Lucy chokes back tears. She’s never heard his voice so full of doubt. She’s never seen him look so broken and afraid. She curls her fingers around his hand and can feel his pulse. His heart is racing. It takes all the will-power she can muster to not wrap her arms around him and draw his body into hers to comfort him, to not kiss him on the forehead and assure him that everything is going to be all right.

Garcia’s fingers tighten around her own and her heart skips a beat.

He gazes deep into her eyes, searching for an opening to draw her into him. He knows that inside that house, his mother is waiting to see him. But right now, all he wants is to feel and accept Lucy’s comfort. He wants her to wrap her arms around him, hold the back of his head and rest her forehead against his and tell him that he has nothing to fear. He folds his fingers into hers and caresses his thumb over her knuckles.

He knows that they agreed to cool things off earlier, but sitting here with her now, it’s as if that conversation never happened. He knows they need to focus on how they can fight Rittenhouse without a time machine, but goddammit, if he doesn’t want to be with Lucy – to touch her, to confide in her, and to love her as they fight side-by-side, just as her original journal detailed would happen. He wants to make love to her. He wants to be a father again. With Lucy the future isn’t dark, it’s full of light and hope, and love. Love that he used to believe he didn’t deserve. He dares to inch closer to her, and he whispers her name, “Lucy…”

Lucy closes her eyes and smiles. She loves the way her name sounds on his lips. She loves the way that his fingers intertwine with hers. His skin is rough, but his touch is soft. The way his thumb caresses her knuckles is almost like making love. She knows if they don’t stop touching each other, that they are going to throw caution to the wind and give in to their feelings for one another. It terrifies her that something as simple as holding hands is too intimate a gesture between them.

She doesn’t want to, but she does it anyway.

She releases his hand.

“Your mom said to gather our things. She has two spare rooms that we can stay in.” Lucy says, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible, as if her heart isn’t racing just from the small touches they’ve just shared. “She also said that she wants me to have the room with the attached bathroom.”

Garcia looks at Lucy, his heart sinks.

He felt the moment she realized that to cool things off meant that she had to let go of his hand.

And it hurt him.

He needs her.

He wants to feel her hold his hand, or feel her arms wrap around him to comfort him. He’s a tough guy, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need the comfort of the woman he loves. She spoke to him just above a whisper, and he saw tears forming in her eyes when he told her that he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to go in there and see his mother for the first time in three years.

He wants Lucy to be here for him, just as he wants to be here for her.

All he wants is for her to accept his love, not push it away.

But he respects her.

He respects her decision to step away from each other, to cool things down.

He would never impose himself on her.

And if one day she should decide that she doesn’t want to be with him, that she doesn’t love him… then, he will accept that and do whatever he can to let her go. He wouldn’t argue with her. He wouldn’t fight her if she chose to walk away from him.

He fears this the most.

He fears losing her.

He clears his throat and gets out of the car.

He feels a wave of irrational anger flow through his veins, and his stupid gut feeling is screaming at him that Lucy has already decided that she doesn’t want to pursue a relationship with him. That at best they are colleagues, friendly acquaintances – despite the fact that they were just tenderly holding hands.

He tells himself that he understands her decision.

And in some way, he does understand.

He knows that he shouldn’t have expected anything to happen after they had quickly moved from their angry and volatile reunion at the prison, to sharing intimate touches in only a matter of days.

He understands why Lucy wants to slow things down.

He’s not a cold-hearted killer. He’s not a bad man. He’s done terrible things that changed him, but in his heart, he is who he’s always been… Garcia Flynn. A man who loves too hard, who cares about others more than himself. A man who puts family above everything else. He’s loyal and will do anything for those he loves. But Rittenhouse took so much of that from him, and with Lucy… with her, he was starting to feel like himself again. She made her way into his heart and helped him reclaim his humanity. She reminded him what it feels like to love and be loved. What it feels like to have one person in the world with whom you most want to share your life. He’s been alone for so long, and he’s desperate to connect with her. Whether that’s an emotional connection or an intimate one, he doesn’t care. He loves her and he hates that she’s told him to stop showing how much he cares.

His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s overwhelmed with anger.

He’s angry at himself for pushing things too far with her so soon. Angry that he’s already told her a few times that he loves her. Angry at himself for touching her intimately even if it was done with her consent and with his utmost respect.

He slams the car door harder than he intended and watches as Lucy gets out of the car. She’s eyeing him cautiously. Apparently, it’s obvious that he’s angry and she’s looking at him like he’s a powder-keg. He feels her eyes on him as he retrieves their duffle bags from the back seat of the car, and without waiting for her, he walks with long strides toward his mother’s house.

Lucy’s face scrunches, confused about his sudden change of mood.

 _Did I do something wrong?_ She wonders.

“Garcia!” Lucy calls out to him, hurrying to catch up with him.

He doesn’t slow his pace as he looks at her from behind his shoulder.

“What?” He snaps.

If she can push him away, he damn well can do the same to her. It’s the only way he knows how to protect himself, to protect his heart from disappointment. He might as well suck it up now and accept that whatever was happening between them isn’t going to happen.

Maybe he should take a trip over to Baku and visit Karl. See if he can recruit him to come back to the States and help him fight Rittenhouse. Maybe all of this would be easier if it wasn’t just he and Lucy.

“Slow down.” She’s running to keep up with him. “Garcia? Would you just stop for one second?!” She grabs onto his arm and pulls at him to stop. He winces as her fingers press against his gunshot wound. She immediately lets go of him. She shakes her head, not believing how quickly he went from touching her gently to slamming the door of the car and quickly walking away from her. “Garcia… you’ve… ever since we had our talk… you’ve been…”

Lucy bites her lower lip not knowing how to describe to him how he’s been these last couple hours. As if she didn’t feel guilty enough about telling him she wants things between them to slow down, they spent the rest of their dinner in awkward silence. They stole another car, and she kept an eye out for him as he removed the RH1955 GPS tracker from underneath it. She tried to make small talk with him – the weather, wondering if it was going to rain, her impressions of Texas thus far – and he ignored her, didn’t even hum a response.

She left him alone as he drove through rush hour traffic, not wanting to disturb his concentration on the busy highways of Houston. She tried to reach out to touch him, just to let him know that despite their decision to cool things off, that she still cares for him, and he backed away from her.

She gets it.

She gets that maybe what she feels is best for herself isn’t what he wants and he only agreed to appease her. But does he have to be like this? Does he have to be tender one moment and then act like he wants nothing to do with her in the next?

“You’re pushing me away, Garcia.” She says calmly.

“No, I’m not.” He lies.

“What do you want me to say?” She asks, anger rising in her voice. “Do you want me to take back what I feel I need to do for myself just so that you can, I don’t know… get what you want?”

“And what is it exactly that you think I want, Lucy?” He leans down, his eyes on fire, daring her to pick a fight with him.

“You want to fight Rittenhouse, you want to save your girls, and despite how scared you are, I know you want to go in there and see your mom.”

Garcia laughs, shaking his head.

“You’re unbelievable, Lucy.” He looks down at her. “Stating the obvious to ignore the elephant in the room.” His voice is rough as he starts towards his mother’s home.

“Would you prefer it if I just walked away?” She shouts at him, from the middle of the street. “If I were gone, would that make this cooling off thing easier for you to handle?” Her voice is growing weaker, he’s breaking her heart.

“No.” He turns on his heel to face her. “You leaving would not make this easier. Rittenhouse is after you and they want to take you back to be the goddamn Mother of Rittenhouse, they want you to be raped _repeatedly,_ and you’re asking me if I want you to leave me?”

“Garcia… if I hurt you then…” She lowers her head. She knows she hurt him, but this is something she needs to do. She’s almost certain that she loves this stupid man, but she knows herself. She has to step back and give this a lot of thought. She has to analyze it from every angle. She needs to understand her feelings completely before she dives head first into something that could be the best thing that ever happened to her. But the way he’s behaving, he’s hurting her.

“I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m tired. I’m…” His voice is raised and he still sounds angry with her. “I’m about to see my mother for the first time since before I was accused of murdering my wife and child. How do you want me to act? There’s only so much that I can handle at one time.” He intentionally does not mention her decision to slow their relationship, not wanting her to feel guilty. It’s obvious that he’s already made her feel this way, and he hates himself for it. He’s frustrated with their relationship. He’s frustrated with himself. He’s stressed out about reuniting with his mother. And he’s terrified of what Rittenhouse can do since he and Lucy have no way to stop them.

Upset with his tone of voice, Lucy shakes her head and walks away from him. She wipes a tear away from her face with the back of her hand.

Fuck.

“Lucy…” His voice is apologetic.

“I’m tired, Garcia. I don’t… I really do not want to argue with you right now.” She wipes a tear from her face again and stops walking. “Neither one of us has slept well these past few days. We’re both tired, stressed out and scared and it’s all catching up with us and… and all I want to do is relax and maybe get a good night’s sleep, but I _can’t do that_ if I know you’re mad at me.” She holds out her hand and nods at her duffle bag which he has slung over his shoulder.

He hands it to her and quietly tells her, “I’m not mad at you, Lucy. I’m… I’m mad at myself for how I’ve reacted.” He shakes his head. “You’re right. We’re both tired and maybe we need time away from each other for a night.”

Lucy’s eyes scan his face.

He’s serious.

She nods her head and says nothing more as they walk side-by-side to Maria’s front door. Lucy’s sure that Maria wouldn’t mind if she just opened the door and let herself in, but… Lucy looks up at Garcia. She knows that he has worried about this moment, that he’s imagined it in so many ways that he has no idea what to expect on the other side of this door. And Lucy wants him to take his time. To knock on the door or open it himself, when he’s ready.

And despite their argument, Garcia knows that he can trust Lucy. That he can depend on her, even if they’re not getting along. He looks down at Lucy. His eyes scanning her face for any assurances that when he steps through that door that this isn’t going to be as difficult as he’s imagined. “She knows that I didn’t… that I didn’t kill my girls, right?” His voice cracks.

Lucy nods her head, “and she knows you’re not a terrorist.” She looks up at him. He’s staring at the door. “She’s already talked to authorities and said that she won’t be turning us in. It’s safe here.” Lucy raises her hand and moves to touch his arm, but stops herself. “She told me that she has some kind of surveillance countermeasures too, so I think she would know if she were being watched.” Lucy smiles to assure him that they’re safe here. “Apparently, she works on some super-secret projects at NOVUS.”

Garcia looks at Lucy and forces a smile. He takes a deep breath and opens the front door and steps into the house. He’s struck by the familiar scent of his mother’s favorite rose petal perfume, and the scent of his favorite broccoli cheese soup that she must have made herself for dinner earlier that evening. The scent of his mother’s home brings back many happy memories from his childhood. Of coming home from school and sitting down at the kitchen table to do his homework as his mom and dad prepared dinner together. Of sitting on the couch with his father, practicing speaking German or French. Or when his grandmother visited and only spoke to him in Croatian so he wouldn’t lose the language when his family moved back to the States for a brief time in the early 1980s.

His heart aches for simpler times. Times before he learned about Rittenhouse, before they murdered his family, before he stole a time machine and before… he looks down at Lucy… she is the one good thing that has happened to him since that fateful day in December of 2014. And as painful as his life has been since he lost his girls, he can’t… he can’t imagine his life without Lucy now. He’s about to reach down and give Lucy’s hand a gentle squeeze just to let her know that their fight doesn’t have to mean that things are going to be awkward between them, but he hears the pitter patter of his mother’s feet before he sees her.

Maria turns a corner and is quickly making her way to her son, her arms open and a smile on her face. Unaccustomed to seeing his mother so happy, Garcia glances down at Lucy. She smiles up at him and takes his duffle bag off his shoulder just as Maria wraps her arms around him. She grabs his face with both hands, rises on her toes, and kisses him several times on both cheeks.

“Garcia!” Another kiss. “Dragi moj mali!” She exclaims as she hugs him again, calling him her sweet little boy.

Garcia doesn’t know what to say.

He sat out there alone in that car for an hour trying to figure out what he would say in this moment. His mind drew a blank. At the prison he thought that his mother was his visitor. He expected to face a woman ashamed and angry with him for the charges he was facing. He felt shame then. He was prepared to have to answer questions. Questions like _did you really murder Lorena and Iris?_ or _Is it true that you joined an Iranian terrorist group?_ But this…

“Mama…” He shakes his head in disbelief at the warm welcome he’s receiving. “Nedostajala si mi mama” He tells her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the cheek, telling her that he missed her. Maria takes hold of his hand and drags him into the living room to sit on the couch. A plate of his favorite snicker doodle cookies has been placed on the coffee table.      

He glances over at Lucy and as much as she means to him, and as supportive and assuring as she has been with him about his mother, he would like to reunite with her alone.

Lucy nods her head, understanding. She sets their duffle bags down on the floor of the foyer and looks around for where she can go. Feeling very out-of-place, she says, “I’m just going to um… it’s a nice night out so I’ll just be out back… star gazing or…” Lucy says as she nervously runs her hand over the top of her head and adjusts her chignon and steps out of their view.

Garcia looks at his mother, “Mom…” His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry…” He furrows his brow as he looks away from his mother. He lets out a loud cry. He’s held so much in, that finally now that he has his mom, he’s breaking down. Immediately, Maria’s arms are around his shoulders and she’s running her hand through his hair to comfort him. He wipes his tears and starts apologizing, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t save them. That I couldn’t protect them… I loved them so much, and you loved them… I’m so sorry that I failed everyone.”

“Shhh…” Maria coos, running her hand through his hair. “No one believes that you murdered them, Garcia.

“I’m sorry for what was reported about me on the news… that I’m a terrorist and a murderer…”

“Sweetheart, I know you’re neither of those things.”

Garcia looks into his mother’s eyes, his lips quiver. “But I am… you don’t know what I’ve been through after they killed Lorena and Iris. What I did to try to avenge their deaths, to try to stop the beasts that did that to them.” He lowers his head, ashamed of what he says next, “I almost took my own life… I’ve killed, mom. I’ve taken innocent lives all because I thought maybe what I was doing would bring them back. I’ve… become something else… I’ve hurt people…. I’ve hurt…” His heart shatters into a million pieces and he swallows hard, “… I’ve hurt Lucy.” He shakes his head, somehow hurting her feels like the worst of his sins, “… her sister disappeared and I don’t know if…” He stops himself from going into more detail. He does not want his mother to know about Rittenhouse. “I’m changed. I’m not the same man I was. I’m not the man that you remember.”

He looks at his mother, his eyes red from crying. He closes his eyes and remembers what his mother told him in 1969, _if anyone ever hurt my boy, I would go to the ends of the Earth to find them. There’s absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do. And I would never let go._

“I remember you.” Maria says softly, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“No, you remember who I used to be, not who I am now.” He argues.

“No… from 1969…” Maria cups his jaw and looks her son in the eye. “The epinephrine shot that you gave Gabe to save his life.”

“What?” He shakes his head. “How…? That was so long ago…”

“I’ve known since you were in your twenties, sweetheart.” She smiles at him. “Once I realized you were John and that you saved your brother’s life… I struggled to figure out how it was possible. I doubted myself, my memory… but I…” Maria stands up and walks toward her entertainment system, she opens a drawer and retrieves a DVD and puts it in the player. “After you saved Gabe, the next day at work I went to a friend of mine who worked in Lockman security and asked him to make me a duplicate of the surveillance video of you entering and exiting the building that day.”

“Why would you…?”

Garcia watches as the DVD loads and plays back an old black and white CCTV video of him entering Lockman Aerospace in Houston on 20 July 1969. It was only a few months ago that he was there in that building to steal a container marked Lockman 690-01 which contained the epinephrine that he would use to save Gabriel’s life.

“I asked for the video… Garcia, after what happened with the astronauts that day, and how I recalled that it felt like you were following me around, taking a strong interest in Gabe… then you showed up and gave him a shot to save his life. I didn’t want to risk that you were someone out to hurt me because of my association with Lockman. I was afraid that someone might destroy the surveillance video and that something might happen to my little boy. I asked for the video so I could take it to the police if I had to.”

She sits next to him on the couch as he watches the video of himself hanging up the pay phone and watching his mother exit the building. He looks at his mother. For her, it has been forty-eight years since that day. For him, it has only been four months. His face softens as he watches his mom. She looks at him with bright eyes and a smile on her face.

He understands how powerful time travel can be. He understands that what he did changed her. But he still sees the mother he knew in her eyes. She’s the same woman who raised him and loved him, who taught him that he needs to take care of people, to do all the good that he can for everyone he can. He swallows hard as tears sting his eyes again. All these months he has wondered if by saving Gabriel, if he had really made that much of a difference in her life.

“Mom… I have no memory of my life where Gabriel lived. I don’t know… I don’t know him, and… I see you and I recognize you, but…”

“But what, Garcia?”

“But…” He lowers his eyes to try to conceal the fact they are filling with tears again. “But I… I knew that what I did meant that you wouldn’t lose a child, and I did it because I wanted you to be happy. And mom…” He looks up and a tear falls down his cheek. “What I had to do… I know I’ve been painted as a murderer and a terrorist, and you said that you know that’s not true, but… there are some things that I can’t tell you, but to do what I did for you… for Gabriel…” Maria wraps her arms around his shoulders as he continues. “To have confirmation that I at least did one good thing, that I _at least_ saved you the heartache of losing a child… it…” He shakes his head. “What I started isn’t done, but at least I know that if I fail again… that at least you are happy.”

“I am… and I’m happy that you came here, Garcia… you and Lucy.” She wipes his tears with the back of her hand.

Garcia looks toward the kitchen. He can see Lucy out the sliding doors. She’s sitting with her back to the house, dangling her bare feet in his mother’s swimming pool. Maria follows his gaze.

“I like her.” She says quietly. “She’s got a laugh like a songbird.”

He nods his head and smiles, not taking his eyes off of Lucy.

“She reminds me a lot of Lorena, you know.” Maria watches her son relax as their conversation turns toward the woman who helped break him out of prison. Maria wasn’t sure how her son would react to her comparing Lucy to Lorena, but she took the risk in saying so anyway. He hasn’t argued which means that he agrees with her. “She’s a terrible actress though. You would think that if you are trying to pass yourself off as a federal agent that you wouldn’t use your real name which has been plastered all over the news the past few days.”

He wipes away the remaining tears from his face and laughs. “I told her to use an alias.”

“I think she was nervous that this was how she was meeting your mother.” Maria smiles as she watches her son look back toward Lucy who is leaning back on her hands, staring up at the night sky. “So… how long have you and Lucy been together?”

“We’re not.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“But you love her?”

He moves his head to the side contemplating whether or not he can get away with lying to his mother, but he knows better. He’s never been able to lie to her so he answers honestly, “I do, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, mom. Part of me feels guilty for loving her because I feel I haven’t… been able to have closure with what happened to Lorena. I’ve visited hers and Iris’s grave, and I stood there promising that I would…” He shakes his head. He can’t tell his mom that he hoped to find a way to save their lives. “But visiting a grave… that isn’t really saying goodbye to them.” He raises his hand and shows her he still wears his wedding ring. “And… when I think about how I feel for Lucy, I feel guilty.”

“Because you still wear your ring?”

He shakes his head, “No… no… I wear the ring because this is all I have to remember them by. I have no pictures, no home videos, nothing.” He pauses. “I feel guilty about loving Lucy because for as long as I’ve known her, I’ve convinced myself that loving her was wrong.” He laughs at himself. “I mean… I fell in love with her by reading her journal, and now that I’ve been able to get to know her outside of that…”

“How did you get her journal?” Maria is confused.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” He waves his hand in the air. “But when I finally met her in person, I already had these feelings for her, and she hated me, mom. She was scared of me. She saw me as a terrorist, a monster.”

“I can assure you that she doesn’t feel that way about you now.” Maria looks at him sympathetically.

“I know that. I know, but… mom… when she came to visit me in prison… after she helped me break out… things were…” He lowers his eyes, how much of this does he want his mom to know? “Things were looking up and we kissed, and… and then… this evening she told me that she wants to slow things down, cool things off… and while I agree that things were going quickly… that didn’t bother me, but it bothered her so, I agreed.”

“Well…” Maria licks her lips and shakes her head. “I never would have guessed that from the way she spoke about you. She seems very fond of you, Garcia. I actually thought that she was withholding from me that you two were an item. That she wanted you to be the one to tell me.” She smiles. “I mean, I was planning on teasing you two with questions about marriage and kids, like how I did with Lorena when she and I first met.”

“Mom…” He says almost as if warning her not to treat him and Lucy with the expectation of a marriage proposal on some beach in the south of France.

“Look,” Maria takes hold of his hands. “Just because she needs time doesn’t mean that she wants you to stop loving her. I don’t know her story, but maybe there are things going on with her that you don’t know about that make her feel that she needs more time.”

“I know.” He lowers his head.

“I saw you two outside, getting out of your car…” She looks at her son. “I know how you get when someone hurts you or breaks your heart. You’re very passionate, wear your emotions on your sleeve. But you also push people away when you feel they don’t want you and, Garcia… you might not see it, but Lucy… she loves you.” Maria places her hand on top of his. “You, more than anyone, know how short life can be and that any day those you love can be taken away, right out from under you. Give her the time she needs, but don’t stop showing her that you care.”

Garcia nods his head.

Maria smiles and decides that it would be good for them to change the subject. “I only regret that-” She stops herself and laughs. She stands up and laughs some more, shaking her head at herself.

“Mom?” Garcia is thrown off by her change of tone and follows her into the kitchen.

“It’s nothing, Garcia. Really, just… something between Lucy and me, that’s all.”

“What?”

“You don’t want to know.” Maria says, smiling.

He tilts his head to the side, wondering what in the world the two of them talked about. Lucy was in here for an hour before coming to tell him that it was safe to come inside.

“Mom? What did you two talk about?” He’s suddenly having flashbacks to the first time he brought Lorena home to meet his mother. It went well, but only at his expense.

“Forget that I said anything.” She waves her hand at him as if to shoo him toward another topic of conversation.

“What did… did you say something to Lucy that…?”

“Well…”

“You didn’t put her in an uncomfortable position and ask her if we were together, did you?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest, lowering his voice so Lucy can’t hear even though she’s still sitting outside by the pool.

“No, no. She said that you were co-workers. She stressed it so much, and several times, that I just assumed that you were a couple and proceeded as such.”

“What does that mean?” His voice lowers as he tries to imagine a worst-case scenario.

“Nevermind, you don’t want to know.” Maria assures him, patting him on the arm.

“What do you mean you proceeded as if Lucy and I were a couple?” He asks, placing his hands on the kitchen counter, leaning down to look his mother in the eye. “What did you do, mom?”

“You’re not going to let this go until I tell you, are you?” Maria places her hands on her hips.

“You know me well.”

“I showed her some photo albums. That’s all.”

Garcia blinks and his eyes go wide. When he brought Lorena home to meet her, months before they had become physically intimate, his mother had shown her photo albums and made a big fuss about his little baby penis. “You didn’t.” He says with an air of incredulity.

“I did.” Maria shrugs her shoulders and smiles. “I showed her your naked baby pictures. I showed her your little baby penis before she’s had a chance to see its adult counterpart for herself.” Maria pauses and gives this a moment’s thought. “Apparently, that’s what I do.” She says cheerfully.

“Mom!” His face flushes red and he’s so very, very thankful that Lucy is sitting outside right now.

“Don’t you dare tell me that you haven’t at least considered the idea of her taking a peek at it, Garcia Flynn.” Maria says in her most mother-like tone. “Besides, Lucy smiled the whole time and even said you were cute.”

Garcia’s jaw drops, and he knows it’s best not to mention that he did stand naked in front of Lucy the first night she stayed with him at the prison’s visitation unit so, she has actually seen the adult counterpart, but... he starts stuttering, trying to figure out what to say to his mom.

He decides that he needs to change the subject quickly before this snowballs out of control, with Lucy deciding it’s too cold outside and walking in on he and his mother discussing Lucy and his penis. “How’s Gabriel?” He asks, running his hand nervously through his hair.

“Now why are you changing the subject? Maybe we need to call Lucy inside and ask her if she thought my showing her your baby penis was inappropriate.” Maria pauses and turns toward the back window, looking at Lucy, and then she calls out to her. “Lucy!”

“Mom!” Garcia touches his mom’s shoulder and she turns around. “Don’t. Oh my God, please, don’t.” He begs. “Mom… you’re talking about my… and Lucy and my… and…” He shakes his head in disbelief.

The mother he remembers, the mother who was always so sad all the time… he knew she had a sense of humor, but it was nothing like this before. She would have dropped this instead of continuing on in jest with him. She’s different than he remembers, but he recognizes the similarities. And while he’s happy that saving Gabriel gave her a better, happier life… he’s not thrilled that she won’t let this penis thing go, and that she’s actually trying to call Lucy back inside the house to include her in this conversation.

Thankfully, Lucy doesn’t seem to have heard his mother call out her name.

Garcia looks out the window at Lucy. She still has her feet in the water and she’s rubbing her hands along her arms. Lucy glances back and catches him watching her. She gives him a smile and turns her attention back to the water.

“Ok, I won’t mention your penis anymore. And Gabe is fine.” She says, answering his earlier question. She steps toward him and pokes her index finger into his chest, “but if you don’t get your butt out there and offer her a blanket, and show her to her room, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.” Maria smiles, then changes the subject. “Anyway, there’s leftover soup if you two are hungry. Lucy gets the guest room with the bathroom suite. She mentioned that neither one of you has slept well for days so… why don’t you go outside and let her know she can come back in.” Maria touches Garcia’s arm. “TCM is doing a Clark Gable theme this week and Boom Town with him, Claudette Colbert and Hedy Lamarr is on at eight.”

Garcia looks at the digital display on the microwave, it’s twenty to eight. He nods his head and glances back out the window at Lucy. Though they’re in south Texas, it’s still springtime and it can get into the mid to lower fifties at night. He doesn’t want Lucy sitting out in the cold longer than she has to.

He starts to make his way out of the kitchen and stops. He turns around and watches his mother for a moment as she takes a bag of chips out of the pantry and empties the bag into a bowl.

Without a word, he walks back to her, wraps his arms around her, and hugs her tight.

He kisses her on the top of her head.

\-----

Lucy traces her toes over the surface of the cold swimming pool water as she rubs her hands on her arms. Usually, the cold bothers her, but not tonight. She feels the cool breeze on her face and closes her eyes, tilting her head back. She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

She’s free.

When she was at Rittenhouse, she never believed that she would see the light of day again, never feel the wind against her skin, or clean water on her skin. With her eyes closed, she envisions Montana. She’s leaning forward against a fence watching Garcia teach their daughter how to ride a horse. It’s springtime and the snow still caps the mountain range in the distance. The air is fresh and smells of wild flowers. Their daughter brings the horse to a trot and Garcia comes to stand next to her at the fence. He bends down and says _I love you_ , without saying a word. He kisses her on the top of her head and they quietly watch their little girl riding a horse on her own, for the first time.

Lucy opens her eyes as a blanket is wrapped around her shoulders. She looks up and sees Garcia is sitting down next to her at the side of the pool. He removes his shoes and puts his feet in the water too, grimacing a little at the water’s cool temperature.

He clears his throat.

“There’s a Clark Gable movie marathon tonight. My mom is filling up bowls with snacks like we’re having some kind of party or sleepover.” He tells her.

“Are you ok?” Lucy asks, her voice hushed. She knows how worried he was about seeing his mom again, and she’s been out here worrying about him, and thinking about the argument they had earlier. She hopes that they can put that behind and them and just shrug it off as poor reactions to sleep deprivation and stress. She turns her head and looks at him. He’s staring ahead of him into the backyard.

“There were tears. But everything is good.” He tells her. He turns his head and looks her in the eyes, taking hold of her hand.

She pulls her hand away from him. She needs him to understand that she was serious when she told him she wants to step back, to not act like they’re a couple when they are not.

It pains his heart when she pulls away from him, and he tries not to let it show. He looks at her and she’s lowered her head and is staring into the water. “I’m sorry, Lucy.” He waits for her to say something to him, or to look at him. She does neither so he continues. “I’m sorry that I acted like I was angry with you earlier. You didn’t deserve that.” Lucy swallows and looks up at the sky. “Can I be honest with you?” He asks.

Lucy looks at him and nods her head.

“I’m…” He licks his lips nervously. “I’m hurt that you want to slow things down. And I don’t want you to feel badly about that because I understand. I just… Lucy…” He wants to reach out and touch her, but he doesn’t, “… when I care about someone, when I… fall in love… I fall hard and maybe it’s because I allow myself to care too much, but… when you said that, it… it broke my heart, made me feel like everything that had happened wasn’t real, that maybe you don’t care for me the way that I care for you… that maybe I had… done something wrong.”

Lucy takes in a sharp breath, and bites down on her lower lip. She does not want him thinking that he’s done something wrong. She starts shaking her head. She turns to him, removing her feet from the pool. She holds her hands on his face and looks him directly in the eye. “Garcia… you have done nothing wrong.”

His face in her hands, he lowers his eyes so not to look at her.

“You want to know what I was sitting out here thinking about?” She asks, not waiting for an answer before telling him. “I was thinking of Montana. I was thinking about how you would teach _our_ daughter how to ride a horse just outside of _our_ home.” Garcia looks at her, hope shimmering in his eyes. He listens as Lucy continues. “Yes, I want us to slow things down, but… that doesn’t mean that I’m not interested. And if I gave you the impression that I don’t want you…” She shakes her head, lowering her eyes, “… then I’m sorry… that wasn’t my intention.”

Lucy stands and offers her hand out to Garcia. He takes it and she helps him to his feet. She holds onto his hand a little longer than she would have only a couple minutes ago.

“Can you show me to my room? I’d like to get washed up and into more comfortable clothes if we’re going to watch a movie with your mom.”

He nods his head and lets go of her hand as she follows him back inside the house. She holds the blanket he wrapped around her across her body as he picks up their duffle bags and leads her upstairs. He shows her to the guest suite and points out which room is his down the hall, and which room is his mother’s.

They slowly walk back towards Lucy’s room and stop at the door, staring at each other wordlessly. The desire and longing to be with each other could easily trump their decision to slow things down. Lucy looks up into his eyes then quickly looks away, not wanting the silence to draw them together too soon. Garcia opens his mouth to say something, changes his mind, and instead places his hands in his pockets.

Downstairs, Maria has turned on music and they listen as Ella Fitzgerald sings her rendition of Moonlight Serenade.

 _I stand at your gate and the song that I sing is of moonlight_  
I stand and I wait for the touch of your hand in the June night  
The roses are sighing a moonlight serenade

“I guess I should…” Lucy gestures to her room.

“Yeah… I’ll… be downstairs.” He responds.

 _The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming_  
My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?  
I bring you and I sing you a moonlight serenade

Lucy leans on the doorframe and watches Garcia walk away. He places his hand on the railing as he disappears down the stairs and out of sight. She sighs.

Once alone, Lucy takes off her suit jacket and throws it across a chair in the corner of the room. She untucks her blouse and unbuttons it, and steps out of her slacks. She walks into the bathroom, turns on the water in the shower, and pulls her hair out of its chignon. She carefully removes the gauze bandage around her forearm and examines the wound. It looks better than it did yesterday, but she still thinks that she’ll need Garcia to check it and bandage it for her again when she goes back downstairs.

She steps into the shower and lets the warm water run down her body. She closes her eyes and runs her face under the showerhead. Her lips quiver and she squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t stop herself from crying. She should know better, but she feels safe here. At Rittenhouse, she wasn’t safe. She didn’t feel safe during her conjugal visit. She hasn’t felt safe on their road trip to Houston. But after spending time talking with Maria and hearing her assurances that they are safe in her home, finally… Lucy cries.

She cries to unleash her fear of being found.

\-----

Garcia joins his mother in the kitchen and watches as she retrieves a two-liter bottle of Big Red from the refrigerator. She is excited and smiles at Garcia to welcome him.

“You and Lucy ok now?” She asks.

“I think so.” He grabs the bottle of soda and looks at it. “I think we’ll just drink water, mom. We don’t need caffeine this late in the evening.”

“That’s what Lorena always told me when you came to visit.” Maria smiles. “Didn’t want Iris awake all night.”

Garcia smiles, but there’s sadness in his eyes. He has so many memories of Lorena and Iris in this house. There’s even a picture that Iris colored for her grandma hanging on the refrigerator door. He walks to it and removes the magnet.

“I can’t believe you still have this.” He says, smiling.

“I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it, not after what happened. That’s the picture she colored for me for my birthday, you know?”

“Yeah… I know.” He says, hanging the picture back on the fridge.

“Come with me, and grab that bowl of popcorn while you’re at it.” Maria tells him.

Garcia follows his mother into the living room and sets the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table. Maria picks up the remote control and turns on the TV as commercials for Clark Gable week play on the screen. Garcia takes a handful of popcorn and starts to sit down.

“Wait, before you get comfortable, come with me.” Maria says.

He puts the popcorn in his mouth and follows his mom back upstairs. They pass by Lucy’s bedroom and he hears the water running in the shower. For only a second, he feels panic wash over him, worried that his mother is going to drag him into Lucy’s room for some ungodly reason having to do with her nudity, or who knows what. But they pass Lucy’s room and he follows his mom into her bedroom.

She hurries around to the side of her bed and picks up a picture frame and brings it to him. He takes it in his hand and chokes back tears as he sees, for the first time in almost three years, the smiling faces of his wife and daughter. It’s a photo that they had taken on a camping trip back in the summer of 2014. He and Lorena are sitting on a fallen tree trunk in the middle of the woods, and Iris is sitting on his lap, gazing up at him with a smile on her face.

“You mentioned that all you had to remember them by was the ring you still wear on your finger.” Maria’s voice is hushed.

Garcia lowers himself onto the foot of his mother’s bed and slowly traces his fingertip over Lorena and Iris’s picture. His heart breaks. He hasn’t seen a picture of them since the night they were murdered, and he had begun to forget what they looked like. But now everything about them comes rushing back… the smile lines around Lorena’s mouth, the dimple on Iris’s right cheek, the way the sunlight hit Lorena’s hair in a way that it almost sparkled like gold when she was outside. He can almost feel the fabric of Lorena’s white blouse, and can almost smell Iris’s bubblegum scented shampoo in her hair.

“I have more pictures, of course, in photo albums and tomorrow I was thinking we could go through them, share some stories about Lorena and Iris with Lucy…?”

Maria sits next to him and touches the side of his face.

“I… I almost forgot what they looked like, mom.” His voice cracks and he wipes a tear from his eye. “And yes, I… I want to show Lucy their pictures. I think she would love that. She always shows an interest in them when I’ve talked about them and…” He leans toward his mom and kisses her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Maria takes hold of Garcia’s hand and runs her finger over his wedding ring. She knows what it’s like to lose your spouse. She lost her first husband to a car accident in 1967. It was difficult for her to decide to stop wearing her wedding ring after Mark’s death, but it was an important step that she had to take to help process the reality of love lost, so that she could move on. And when she met Asher, she didn’t feel guilty about falling in love with him. He was a good man. A man that Mark would have approved of, a man he would have befriended if he had been alive. Maria sees in Garcia a lot of herself, and she knows that for as long as he wears his ring that he will hold himself back from letting anyone love him. She hopes in giving him back his girls, even if only in pictures, that she can help him take the next step in healing, so that he can truly give himself over to love again.

\-----

It’s almost ten o’clock by the time Lucy makes her way downstairs – a whole two hours later. She’s wearing only an extra-large white t-shirt, white cotton panties, and a pair of men’s socks that Garcia had stolen at a convenience store on their way to Houston. The shirt is long enough that she determined it wouldn’t be inappropriate to not wear sweatpants.

She feels bad that she was upstairs for two hours. It’s late now but she needed to take time for herself. She spent well over an hour crying on the shower floor.

She walks into the darkened living room and sees Garcia sitting on the couch with his bare feet up on the coffee table. He’s changed into a grey long-sleeve shirt and is wearing black sweatpants. His mother is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey.” She says as she sits next to him. “Your mom go to bed?”

“She did.” He nods his head. “Said she needs to get up early to call her team to let them know that she is taking tomorrow off work so she can take us shopping. Not sure how we’ll avoid being recognized, but maybe we’ll be lucky.” He takes his eyes off the TV and turns his body toward Lucy, giving her all his attention. He sees she’s not wearing any pants, he raises his brow and touches her knee. He smiles when she doesn’t back away from him. “Cold must not bother you, huh?”

“Oh, it does, but sometimes it’s nice. Plus… I took a really long, warm shower so I’m good.” She smiles back.

Garcia leans forward and grabbing the plate of his mother’s homemade snicker doodle cookies, he offers it to Lucy.

“Thank you.” She takes a cookie and eats it, brushing crumbs off of her chest. She leans away from Garcia and sinks into the far corner of the couch. “Looks like I missed all of Boom Town.” She says.

“We can stay up and watch the next movie if you want. I don’t mind. Not sure I’ll be able to sleep much anyway.”

“What’s the next movie?” She swallows the last bite of her cookie. “No. Let me guess… it’s going on ten o’clock… television programming would deem Gone With The Wind as an appropriate film to start so late at night, forcing viewers to stay up until the early morning?”

“No.”

“Aw.” She’s disappointed. “I love Clark in that movie, Rhett reminds me a lot of you.” She doesn’t allow her comment to linger between them. She leans forward and takes another cookie from the plate on the coffee table. “Which movie is next?”

“It Happened One Night.”

“Another classic.” Lucy says.

“I’ve never seen it.”

“You’ve never seen it?!” She exclaims, and quickly covers her mouth, hoping that she hasn’t woken up Maria. She looks around the room then back at Garcia, “is there a blanket?”

He nods his head and stands up, going to an antique trunk in the corner of the living room. He opens it and takes out a knitted burgundy afghan that Lorena made for his mother one year for Christmas. It’s been years since Lorena has been in this house, yet somehow the afghan still smells like her tea rose perfume. Though his heart aches, he smiles to himself. He has so many memories of Lorena knitting this blanket, often with Iris sitting in her lap to help. He walks back to Lucy and covers her with it.

“Thank you.” Lucy says quietly as he sits down next to her on the couch. “Ok, so, this movie is about this spoiled brat who runs away from her family because she doesn’t want to be married to some boring rich guy. She runs into Clark Gable’s character, he’s a journalist whose career is in need of a good story, and he helps her out. They go on this bus trip and pretend to be a married couple and-”

“Kind of familiar, don’t you think?” He asks, interrupting her.

“What do you mean?”

“Us… running away from people… I’m guessing the spoiled brat is being tracked by her family, right?”

“Mmhmm.” Lucy nods her head and stretches her legs out so that her feet rest in Garcia’s lap.

“And didn’t you forge paperwork to say that you and I are married?” He winks at her.

“I did…” Lucy points to the bowl of chips on the table, and Garcia leans forward to get it for her. He leans back on the couch and pulls part of the afghan over his legs to help keep Lucy’s feet covered. “Clark and Claudette’s characters… they fall in love too.”

“Now you’ve gone and spoiled the whole thing for me.” He teases.

“No, I haven’t.” She says and shoves a few chips into her mouth.

“I think you have.”

“If I spoiled the whole movie for you then you’d know all about the really good scenes in the movie like the piggy back ride, when they try to hitchhike, when he demonstrates how men undress, or when they put up the walls of Jericho, and have one of the sweetest conversations about love-”

“Shh, the movie is starting.” He playfully shushes her. His Croatian accent seems more pronounced when he’s being lighthearted. “And men undress in this movie…? What kind of movie is this, Lucy?”

Lucy smiles, but doesn’t answer his question. She gently pushes her toes into his thigh to try to warm her feet. He takes hold of her ankle and holds her still, focusing his attention on the TV. Lucy pops another handful of chips into her mouth and watches him. She’s seen this movie a million times and right now, she’d much rather watch Garcia watch one of her favorite movies of all time. The light from the TV casts shadows on his face. She smiles when he laughs at the silly situations Clark and Claudette’s characters find themselves in. He casually starts to gently massage her feet, his thumb and knuckles kneading the muscles around her ankle and bottom of her foot.

“He loves you, Ellie. He told me so. You don’t want to be married to a mug like Westley. I can buy him off for a pot of gold. And you can make an old man happy and you won’t do so bad for yourself. If you change your mind, your car’s waiting at the back gate.”

Lucy watches Garcia as he’s fully enthralled with the movie. It’s near the end and he’s barely said a word to her the entire duration. She’s watched him laugh so hard that he feared that he was going to wake up his mother, and she saw him wipe his eyes a time or two as well. On the screen, Ellie – dressed in her wedding gown – runs away from her wedding. She’s being chased by wedding guests and journalists. She hops into a car and drives away.

“What happened?” A character asks the father of Claudette’s character on screen.

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” He answers, sucking on a cigar.

Garcia looks over at Lucy with a big smile on his face, he nods his head, clearly enjoying this turn of events on screen. He turns his attention back to the TV and slowly rubs his hands against her feet again, keeping them warm. Lucy sinks down into the couch and pulls the afghan over her shoulders and glances at the TV before looking at Garcia again. She listens to the final dialogue of the movie, mouthing off the words as the female and male characters – Zeke and Zeke’s wife – say them:

“Funny couple, ain’t they?”

“Yeah.” Zeke answers his wife.

“If you ask me, I don’t believe they’re married.”

“They’re married, all right. I just seen the license.”

“They made me get them a rope and a blanket, on a night like this. What do you reckon that’s for?” The woman asks, glancing cautiously at a cabin.

“Blamed if I know, I just brung ‘em a trumpet.”

“A trumpet?”

“Yeah, one of them toy things. They sent me to the store to get it.”

“But what in the world do they want a trumpet for?”

“Dunno.”

Zeke and his wife turn their heads and look at the cabin that Clark and Claudette’s characters are occupying that night. A trumpet sounds and the movie ends with a blanket falling to the ground. Garcia snaps his head and looks at Lucy, his eyes wide. He points at the screen as the Columbia Pictures logo appears.

“Did that… this movie came out in the early thirties, Lucy!” He exclaims, trying to remain quiet. It’s clear that he’s tickled by what he just saw.

“It’s risqué, right?” Lucy says, smiling at the shocked yet delighted expression on Garcia’s face.

“Did the annulment go through or were they toppling the walls of Jericho before they could be legally wed?”

Lucy raises her eyebrows and just smiles at Garcia. He hits the “guide” button on the TV remote and reads the information about the movie.

“1934.” He looks at Lucy. “You did not tell me that this movie was so-”

“See, I didn’t spoil it for you.” She sits up and wraps her arms around her knees.

She yawns.

Garcia turns off the TV and the room goes dark, just barely lit by the moonlight outside. They sit in silence, his hands still holding her feet in his lap.

“Did your mom knit this afghan?” Lucy asks, curling her fingers into the blanket.

“No… Lorena did…” He kneads his thumb against Lucy’s ankle.

“Oh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up-”

“It’s ok, Lucy.” He gives her a soft smile. “It doesn’t bother me to talk about her. Actually… talking about her helps.” He massages his knuckles on the bottom of her foot. “She made that afghan for my mom a few years ago. Lorena she…” Garcia chuckles, “…she didn’t know how to knit, but decided five months before Christmas that she was going to learn, and that she was going to make a blanket for my mom.”

“Lorena was ambitious. I don’t think I could learn how to knit something like this in such a short amount of time.” Lucy smiles, happy that Garcia is talking to her about his wife.

“She was stubborn. Once she set her mind to doing something, anyone that knew her well understood that she was going to do it.”

“So, if Lorena was stubborn, and I know that you’re stubborn then…” Lucy isn’t sure she should ask, but she’ll never know if he’s ok with her asking about his girls if she doesn’t try, “… it’s safe to say that Iris was stubborn as well?”

Garcia lets out a loud laugh and quickly tries to quiet himself so he doesn’t wake up his mother. “Iris was stubborn. I can’t tell you how many nights I had to go into her room and hunt monsters before she’d accept that they were scared away, and that it was safe for her to go to sleep.”

“I haven’t had kids yet, but… when Amy was little… she had this strawberry scented shampoo. When we were little, she would get scared at night, so she’d crawl into my bed and snuggle into me, her hair right up against my nose.” Lucy laughs at the memory. “I’d dream all night about milkshakes.”

“It’s the little details like that which I miss the most.” Garcia says, shifting his body closer to Lucy, cupping her calf muscle in his hand and massaging her. “The pranks she pulled, her icy feet at night…” He lowers his hand back down to Lucy’s feet and rubs them, keeping her warm.

“We’ll never get the people back that we love, will we?” Lucy asks, feeling tears sting her eyes.

“Only if we give up hope.” He looks at her, wanting to do everything he can to bring back her sister. “I know somehow, someway, we’ll save the people we love.”

Lucy nods her head. She desperately wants to believe him, but they have no way to even try to go back to save their loved ones.

“Garcia?”

“Hm?”

“You once told me that if you saved your wife and daughter that you would go to them, say goodbye, and then walk away from them forever…” Lucy hesitates and sees him swallow hard. “… did you mean what you said or…?”

“Are you asking what I would do now that…” He motions his hands between the two of them.

Lucy nods her head.

Garcia looks at Lucy and sees fear. He knows that he’s told her he loves her, and he knows that he’s told himself that though he’ll always love Lorena that his heart belongs to Lucy now. He lowers his eyes and he knows that he would choose Lucy, but he also knows that he can say that all he wants… that he can say that because right now Lorena and Iris are dead and he doesn’t have to make the choice… but if one day he woke up and Lorena and Iris were alive… he’s not so sure anymore that he would be able to walk out of their lives forever. Yes, he’s changed, become something else. He carries a darkness inside him that he would never want in Lorena and Iris’s life, but…

Lucy nods her head and bites her lower lip. He’s taking too long to answer which tells her exactly what his answer is… he would go back to Lorena. And he should. He’s been through so much to try to save her life and Iris’s. He deserves happiness. He deserves to get his girls back.

“It’s ok, Garcia.” She tells him, reaching out from beneath the blanket to touch his face. “It’s ok. I… I never should have built up hope that-”

“Lucy…” He reaches out to stop her from standing. “I wouldn’t walk away from them forever, but…”

“Please, Garcia… just… I’m tired and I want to go to sleep, ok?” She wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to look him in the eyes.

“But I would choose you, Lucy.”

“What?” Lucy asks, wiping another tear from her face.

“If Lorena and Iris were saved, I would… I would want to have a relationship with my little girl. I can’t imagine her being alive and me not going to science fairs, or school plays, or meeting boyfriends, and going to her graduation. I wouldn’t want her to think that I left her and her mom because I didn’t love them anymore. I’d want to walk her down the aisle at her wedding. I’d want to remain friends with Lorena, and Lucy… the more I get to know you, the real you, not just the Lucy from that journal… I know that you and Lorena could be friends. And if they are saved, that’s the life that I want with them… with you.” He looks her in the eyes. “And I know that talking like that breaks your rule about us stepping back, but…”

Lucy leans forward, cupping Garcia’s face in her hands and she places a kiss on his forehead. She doesn’t say anything to him, but she doesn’t have to. He understands that she appreciates his honesty with her, and he understands that with her kiss that she’s trusting him to be a man of his word. To not break her heart should they succeed in saving his girls.

She also knows that if he saved them, and if he changed his mind, that she would tell him she would be all right, and that she would conceal her heart ache from him so that he could be happy.

And there’s always the possibility that Rittenhouse could go back and change the past, make it so that they never went to kill his family. If they did this, neither one of them would ever know. They’d have their own separate lives. She’d probably be indoctrinated in Rittenhouse, and he’d be living life as a good husband and father.

Lucy leans back into the corner of the couch and looks at Garcia.

She yawns.

“Tired?” He asks, weaving his fingers between her toes.

Lucy nods her head and slides her feet from his hands and sets them on the floor.

“Thank you.” She says, placing her hand on his knee for only a moment before standing up and taking the half-full plate of cookies into the kitchen. Garcia follows her, carrying the empty chip bowl. Lucy leans against the kitchen counter and folds her arms across her chest. Yawning, she looks at the time. It’s almost midnight. She folds her hands together and looks at the floor.

“It’s safe to fall asleep here, right?” She asks, just wanting his reassurance.

“I think so.” He says, knowing he doesn’t sound absolutely certain.

“I feel safe, and I trust you mom, but… I guess I’m still afraid that Rittenhouse will change our lives overnight, and that somehow if I manage to not sleep that that would be able to stop them from rewriting our memories.”

Garcia steps toward her and touches her arm, lifting it up to check the wound which hasn’t yet been rebandaged. Lucy watches him in silence as he turns on a light underneath one of the kitchen cabinets to get a better look at her wound.

“It didn’t bleed in the shower so I figured it’s ok to leave it out to breathe, right?”

He nods his head.

“I’m scared, Garcia. I know that I shouldn’t be, and I want to believe that they can’t find us here. But these thoughts, they’re there in the back of my mind, screaming at me that they could still find us. I hate feeling this way. Going back and forth from feeling safe to fearing Rittenhouse might bust through the front door and take me back to my mother… take me back to 1725…”

“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” He asks, looking up at her from lowered eyes, knowing that he might be treading on thin ice, despite the conversation they just had in the living room. It was an emotional conversation, but an important one that they needed to have in order to take the next step in their relationship.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I should get used to sleeping alone again. I’ll just leave the light on in the bathroom with the door cracked open.” She looks at him and adds, “But I appreciate your offer.”

“You know I’ll be right across the hall if you need me.” He turns off the light. “Even if you wake up at three or four in the morning, if I’m asleep, you wake me, ok?” He licks his lips, “I’ll protect you.”

“And who’ll protect you?” Lucy nudges him gently in the ribs as she walks past him back into the living room.

“Are you suggesting that if I get scared that I can come to you?” He asks, watching her pick up the burgundy afghan, wrapping it around her body as she heads toward the stairs.

“You’ve seen me handle a weapon, am I capable of protecting the one and only Garcia Flynn?” She steps up on the stairwell and nearly trips over the afghan. Garcia places his hand on her back to steady her. “Thank you.” She whispers.

“I trust you with my life, Lucy.” He answers her question seriously.

Lucy stops in front of her bedroom door and looks up at him, her eyes resting on his lips. Any other night, any other timeline, any other moment in time and she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, really kiss him goodnight. She looks into his eyes and opens her mouth, wanting to say something, but can’t find the words. She doesn’t want to leave him.

He rests his hand on her shoulder and leans down, she turns her head slightly, expecting him to give her a kiss on the cheek. He doesn’t. Instead all he says is:

“Goodnight, Lucy.”

He slides his hand down her shoulder, looks her in the eye, then turns and walks into his room. He closes the door behind him. Lucy leans against the doorframe and stares at his bedroom door. She hears the words of Ellie Andrews, Claudette Colbert’s character in _It Happened One Night_ , replay in her head: _It seems to me you could make some girl wonderfully happy._ Yes… Garcia Flynn could make her wonderfully happy, and it warms her heart to know that he’s respecting her decision about their relationship. She smiles to herself as she recalls the way he kept her feet warm tonight, the way he didn’t hand her the afghan but how he placed it on her, his honesty when telling her that if his girls were saved that he would want to be a part of their lives, the gentle way that he held her arm to examine her wound… she sighs and decides that she can’t spend all night staring at his bedroom door. She really should try to get some sleep.

Lucy steps into her bedroom and quietly closes the door behind her.

\-----

It’s three in the morning and Garcia has not been unable to sleep. He trusts his mother when she says that he and Lucy are safe here, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking that every noise that he hears outside is a squad of Rittenhouse agents, sent to kill him and Lucy in their sleep – just as they had done with Lorena and Iris three years ago.

He reaches over to his nightstand and picks up the new black leather-bound journal that Lucy stole from a convenience store. He opens it and begins reading Lucy’s first entry. She asked him the other night to help her write this journal so that if there was ever a need to go back in time and give it to him again in 2014, that it would contain information from both of them, making the journal an even more powerful weapon in the fight against Rittenhouse.

He expected her first journal entry to contain vital information about the inner workings of Rittenhouse, but instead she wrote in it as if writing in her personal diary. She told him that there are no secrets between them and that she wants him to read what she wrote.

> _There was a time I barely remember now, before all of this. I have to remind myself what it was like then. A time when I had a mother I trusted, a sister I adored, a life that was familiar, safe. And then time travel happened and history changed. I thought history was something worth protecting. Worth dying for, even, no matter what. I thought I knew who the enemy was, but I was wrong. It was Rittenhouse. An organization that wanted to control the past, present and future. And worse, my family was part of it. I thought I’d lost everything, so all that was left to do was to fight. Not for the past anymore, but for our future. Everyone’s future. Fight for each other. We’ve sacrificed so much, Garcia. There has to be a way to get back what we lost. To make things right, and save the people we love, no matter what. But it’s all up to you now. You have to change history._

Garcia blinks his eyes in disbelief. Her opening paragraph is almost exactly word-for-word what he remembers from the original journal. If she continues as she did in the original journal the next part is about figuring out pressure points in history, moments in time when Rittenhouse was weak and vulnerable to an attack that could destroy them. He turns the page.

Her next paragraph isn’t about that at all. She talks a lot about Wyatt, which really shouldn’t surprise him. He knows that she cared and maybe even loved the man before he died. What does surprise him though is how even though she’s writing about Wyatt, her comments are about him, Garcia Flynn.

> _I want to know everything there is to know about him. I want us to become “quite the team” that he spoke about at the National in 1972. I enjoy talking to him, learning about his life, learning about his wife, Lorena and his daughter, Iris._

Garcia smiles and keeps reading. She goes on about how only months ago how they were enemies, and how she used to be afraid of him, but now she finds excuses to fall asleep in his arms at night. He fixes his eyes on his bedroom door and has half a mind to get up out of bed to check on her.

But he doesn’t.

If she’s asleep, he wants her to get her rest, uninterrupted.

He continues reading.

> _If I close my eyes, I can still feel his breath on the back of my neck as he tells me it’s been a long time since he’s felt this way for anyone and how he doesn’t want to rush things between us._

Garcia closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. There it is, in writing. A reminder that back at that gas station he told her that they shouldn’t rush their relationship. He had gotten so caught up in her, and what was going on between them that he had forgotten that even he wanted to slow things down.

> _This isn’t a relationship that means nothing._ _It could mean everything. And I absolutely do not want to mess this up._

Lucy poured her heart out on the first pages of this journal. And he hates that he felt angry about their mutual decision to slow things down, but reading her words now, he knows. Goddammit, he knows that Lucy cares more about him than she has anyone else she has ever been with. He continues reading about how her heart breaks when she sees the bruises on his body, the ones that he got while he was in prison. How she wants for him to be able to talk to her about his pain and his grief. She wants him to trust her with his heart, put himself on the line and open up to her, to show her his vulnerability. He knows that he’s allowed her bits and pieces of himself, but he has not gone to her and given himself to her in that way. He hasn’t given her a chance to help him, to heal him.

He reads her journal entry and has to wipe tears from his eyes. So many times, these past few days, he’s doubted her feelings for him. But here, in their journal, she is going on about how she wants to know him in every way imaginable. How she loves the way he touches her, finds reasons to kiss the top of her head, how he even arouses her.

> _I want you to love me enough to feel comfortable telling me how much you love Lorena and Iris, and for you to know that it doesn’t make me uncomfortable or jealous to hear you talk about them to me. I want to know them too. I want to love them since they are my family too. I want to love your girls just as much as you love them._

Tears well up in his eyes as he rereads her words:

_I want to love them since they are my family too._

What has he done to deserve Lucy Preston? He wants to tell himself that she can do better, that she deserves better than a man who was willing to throw himself into the darkness, to destroy his soul all because she came to him one Christmas Eve and offered him the hope of righting wrongs, and saving his family, and maybe even saving the unborn child that she lost. He finishes reading her journal entry, and knows that if they ever defeat Rittenhouse and can live normal lives again, that if she’ll have him, he’ll marry her and they’ll move to Montana and live in a beautiful ranch house with their children. She ends her first entry telling him that she wants to tell him what happened to her at Rittenhouse. He leans over and opens the drawer to his nightstand and takes out a pen. He closes his eyes and though he has memorized her original journal line-by-line, he has no idea where to begin. So, he starts the only way he knows how.

> _I love you, Lucy._

His hand shakes as he commits those words to their journal, knowing that she’ll read them.

> _I promise you, I will find a way to bring back your sister. And when I figure it out, nothing will stop me from doing that for you. I know that Amy is why you stayed in this fight. I know she’s the reason you kept going on those missions to chase me through time. And I know that Agent Christopher didn’t keep her word, and that your mother instructed Emma to go back to ensure that she could never be saved. But I will fight to my dying breath to bring her back to you. I’ve all but given up hope on finding a way to save my girls. It breaks my heart to admit this, but it’s the truth. I love Lorena, I always will. And I lost a part of my heart the night those bastards from Rittenhouse murdered my baby girl. But I’ve never been able to figure out how to save them. I’d have to go back in my own timeline and stop myself from ever discovering Rittenhouse, stop myself from asking questions, and if I did that, Lucy. If I did that then I would never find you. And Lucy, you know how I feel for_ _you. You know that even if my girls are saved, I am still yours. I know you fear Rittenhouse might change our history, and I fear the same thing but-_

He looks up when he hears a creak on the floor just outside his bedroom door. He lowers the journal and looks. There’s a shadow of someone – _it must be Lucy_ – standing just outside his door. He quietly sets down his pen and the journal. He gets out of bed and walks to the door. If it’s Lucy, he wants more than anything for her to knock on the door and ask if she can stay with him tonight.

He wants to wrap his arms around her and whisper in her ear everything he feels for her. He knows that she must still have her doubts about his promise to her that he would choose to be with her instead of Lorena if she were saved. He wants Lucy to feel him… his touch, his kisses, his breath on her skin as his mouth devours her body. He wants her to feel how much he loves her. And if she comes to him tonight, if she… if she kisses him again, or caresses his face, he knows he would want to make love to her… if she will have him.

Garcia reaches to the doorknob, but stops himself, waiting for her to knock.

Lucy stands outside Garcia’s door, her hand poised to knock, but she hesitates. She hasn’t been able to sleep all night. In such a short time, she’s become accustomed to the warmth of his body near hers, the way he drapes his arm around her waist, the way that he whispers to her when he thinks she’s asleep and can’t hear him.

Lucy looks down at the crack underneath the door. The light is on in his room, and she sees his shadow underneath the door. She lowers her hand, waiting for him to open the door. To catch him leaving his room to come to her. She wants them to stumble back to each other tonight. Despite this apparent cooling off period with which they’re both struggling, she wants him… needs him near her. She takes a deep breath and tells herself that when he opens that door that she won’t be able to stop herself from falling into him, from wrapping her hands around his neck, fingering the little tufts of hair as she kisses him. How she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from pushing him backward onto his bed as she strips off her white t-shirt, sliding her hand down the front of his pants, stroking him.

Lucy closes her eyes and feels warmth spread between her legs. She wants to slow things down, but she wants him to feel just how much she cares, how much she… loves him.

She bites her lower lip and wonders if he knows she’s standing on the other side of the door and for some reason or another, he isn’t opening it. She raises her hand to knock again, but doesn’t.

What if he knows she’s standing outside his door and has decided that he doesn’t want her tonight?

What if he didn’t mean it when he said that she could come to him no matter what?

Lucy leans against his bedroom door and rests her head on it. She holds her hand on his door as if she were resting it against his chest. She closes her eyes and sighs. If he hasn’t opened the door by now, he never will. And she can’t bring herself to bother him if she’s not wanted.

She shakes her head at herself.

She knew that she should have stayed in her own bed tonight. They had a good night watching one of her favorite movies, talking about Lorena, and discussing what he would really do if his wife and daughter were saved. Maybe she just needs to let things alone.

Lucy steps away from his door and glances down at his shadow beneath the door. He’s still standing there and he isn’t coming to her. She walks back toward her room, looking back one last time to see if he’s opening the door. Nothing happens, so she walks back into her room and quietly shuts the door behind her.

Garcia’s heart sinks when he sees Lucy’s shadow disappear.

But maybe this is for the best.

He loves her and he knows she loves him even though she’s never actually said those three words. But there are more important things that they need to prioritize before they can focus on their relationship, before they can express their feelings to each other. Or… and he knows this is stupid to think, but… what if her feelings for him have changed since she wrote her first entry in their journal? She did write it before their cooling off conversation yesterday evening. He knows that feelings can change, sometimes even overnight. And if that’s what has happened with Lucy, he isn’t going to impose himself on her.

He glances down at the crack beneath the door one last time to see if maybe, just maybe, she’s come back and wants to be with him tonight, but there’s nothing. He walks back to his bed, crawling underneath the covers. He places the journal into the drawer of the nightstand, and turns off the bedside lamp.

He lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling.

For the past few years, he’s found solace staring at the ceiling at night. He did it in the shithole motel that he stayed at in São Paulo. He spent countless sleepless night staring at the ceiling in the abandoned church he holed up in after he first stole the Mothership from Mason Industries. And in prison, the ceiling was the only thing of interest to look at. He closes his eyes and allows his mind to wander. He thinks of Lucy. He thinks of Lorena and Iris. He thinks about his mother and how easily she welcomed him back into her life. And he thinks about his elder half-brother, Gabe, who he’s never known.

He needs sleep.

He needs to… he needs to find a way to let go of his feelings for Lucy. The only way he can become efficient in this fight against Rittenhouse is to get his mind back where it should be. If all he’s concerned or worried about is Lucy, he will fail. He closes his eyes and tells himself over and over again that the sooner he can stop wanting to be with Lucy romantically, the better it will be. It will allow them both to move on, to just be friends, to be “quite the team” that she wrote about in the original journal. The team that had come so close to defeating Rittenhouse before he died.

Eventually, his mind quiets. His breathing slows and he has fallen asleep.


	8. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Garcia and Lucy were idiots and decided not to go to each other the night before. While getting ready for the day they receive a phone call from Jiya.

 

The bunker is never warm enough. No matter how many layers Jiya wears to bed at night, she always wakes up freezing cold. Rufus is the polar bear in their relationship and sharing a bed with him means only using one thin blanket. Unfortunately, he’s not the cuddler of their relationship either so it’s not like Jiya can rely on his arms to keep her warm at night.

She walks down the hallway of the bunker toward the kitchen to make herself a cup of hot chocolate, but she slows her pace when she hears Denise speaking on the phone.

“Emma… what do you mean you want me to figure out how to switch off the connection between the Lifeboat and the Mothership?” Denise asks in a hushed tone.

Jiya presses her back up against the wall and continues to listen in. Her mind races, going over scenarios that can explain why Denise is speaking with Emma on the phone.

“But they would certainly realize that it’s been disabled. The three of them check on the machine several times a day.” Denise says. “I understand that Rittenhouse needs to ensure they don’t follow you on that mission, but-” Denise is cut off, she listens. “Yes, of course. I understand.”

Jiya backs away, not wanting to get caught. She turns and runs back to her room, quietly shutting the door. She looks at Rufus, he’s still asleep. She approaches the bed and kneels on the floor as she reaches far underneath the bed. She pulls out an old shoe box. Inside the box is an old 1998 Nokia cell phone that she found in one of the storage closets earlier this morning.

She goes to sit on the bed across the room so she doesn’t disturb Rufus. Her mind is racing. Denise was on the phone with Emma. Denise mentioned disconnecting the time machines from each other for Rittenhouse. As much as she looked to Denise as a mother figure, she can’t ignore the fact that it seems Denise is working with Rittenhouse. And if Denise is Rittenhouse, and she’s in charge of the team then… that means that the team must be taking orders from Rittenhouse.

It’s no wonder they failed their last mission.

Jiya is determined to get this damn phone working.

She has to find a way to reach out to Lucy.

She prays that Lucy and Flynn have made their way to his mother’s home in Houston. If they have, she’ll be able to contact them, but if they haven’t then… then she may never get to see her friend again.

Jiya fidgets with the old cell phone, places its clunky battery back in and snaps it shut. She presses down on the power button and prays that it turns on… it does. Jiya smiles, _that’s more like it._ Jiya closes her eyes and recalls Maria Thompkin’s home phone number. She starts to dial, waits and doesn’t get a ringtone. Dammit. Her face twists with frustration.

She glances at Rufus.

He’s still asleep in the other bed.

She feels guilty for not telling him about the visions she’s been having. But ever since she told Wyatt that she had dreamt of him receiving orders from Flynn’s pilot, Emma Whitmore, to kill Lucy… she’s been afraid. Afraid that maybe even Rufus isn’t who he claims to be. Jiya knows that Denise is Rittenhouse – that fact alone makes her afraid to sleep at night, and she suspects that Wyatt is tied up in something bad too. She hopes he’s not associated with Rittenhouse, but she’s not going to take any chances and blindly trust the guy.

Deep in her gut, she knows that she can trust Rufus, but will he believe her?

She’s not so sure about that. Rufus has grown close to Wyatt, considers him his best friend. If Rufus weren’t in a relationship with her, he and Wyatt would be inseparable.

She’s afraid that if she tells Rufus about her visions, especially her vision about Wyatt, that he will take that information and ask Wyatt about it himself. And the last thing Jiya wants is for anyone to linger on the fact she’s having these visions, that they might mean something, and that information getting back to Rittenhouse because of Denise.

She stands up to put the old cell phone back in a shoe box to store it under her bed, but the moment she stands up, she feels disoriented. She falls to the floor as her eyes roll back in her head.

It’s nighttime and smells like rain on pavement. Cold air whips around her and she can see her breath as she exhales. Music echoes around her as if she’s submerged under water.

_Everyday is so wonderful_  
_Then suddenly_  
_It’s hard to breathe_

Jiya suddenly finds herself sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. Her heart is racing and she feels a dull pain on the small of her back. She reaches behind her and feels that there’s a bandage. Her eyes go wide and she looks at herself in the rearview mirror. But instead of seeing her own reflection, she sees herself as Lucy.

_I am beautiful_  
_No matter what they say_  
_Words can’t bring me down_

She’s alone in the car. She takes a deep breath and lets her mind go, wanting to see if that allows her into Lucy’s mind. Where is she? When is she? Is she with Flynn? If not, is she on her way to meet with Flynn? Is Garcia Flynn her captor?

The car speeds down the empty road, alongside a lake or a river. Lucy is driving faster than she should as she speaks aloud to herself.

“… and I’m going to go on the road with Jake, and we’re going to do gigs across the country, and I think that this will be a really good experience for me, mom. To get away from home for a while, to see the country. To not have to worry about studying or research papers…”

Headlights from an oncoming car blind her. She raises her hands to block out the light. The car passes and she checks the rearview mirror. Without warning, the car skids across the road, and no matter what she tries to do to stop the car from spinning, it continues to tumble over itself down a hill as it gets closer and closer to the river.

Jiya’s mind is thrown from the car and now she watches the scene from afar. Lucy’s car spins out of control and crashes violently into the body of water. She can see Lucy in the car, her fists pounding on the window as the car sinks further under water. Jiya turns her head as headlights approach. The car stops and a man rushes out of the car and into the freezing cold water. There’s no way that this man could have seen Lucy’s car roll down that hill and into the water, not at night.

_How did he know?_

Jiya looks left then right, and wants to rush down to help, but she can’t. She’s not really here, not in the physical. She’s just traveling here in her mind. She can only watch as the man swims out to the car, struggles to get the car door open, and then holds Lucy’s head above water as he drags her to shore.

Jiya squints her eyes and wishes she could control the vision and stand next to the man. She recognizes him, but cannot recall his name, but his face is familiar.

A woman steps into Jiya’s peripheral vision and aims a gun at the man.

She pulls the trigger.

BAM!

The man falls to the ground, dead.

Jiya turns her head and sees only a flash of red hair as the woman runs down the hill toward Lucy’s lifeless body. She aims her gun at Lucy, and pulls the trigger, burying a bullet into her head.

BAM!

Jiya’s eyes snap open and she wakes from the vision, her face on the floor of the bunk. She presses herself up and looks at Rufus. He’s still asleep. She takes a deep breath as she tries to recall the details of this vision, to commit them to her memory. She doesn’t know when it was, the only cue would be the song playing on the radio in the car and that’s a big maybe. Red hair… could that be Emma Whitmore? Was she there alone? If the woman was Emma then… how did she manage to travel within a timeline where she already exists? That isn’t supposed to be possible.

Jiya picks up the old cell phone and checks that it didn’t break when she fell to the floor. It seems to be all right. She goes to the desk against the back wall of the room, and sits down. She was going to crawl back into bed with Rufus, but not anymore. She doesn’t know if that vision was something that is going to happen to Lucy, or if it is something that has already happened, or if it’s something that happened that is going to happen in their future.

Jiya just doesn’t know if her visions are of the past or the future. And she needs to get this damn phone working so she can try to reach out to Lucy. To find her, to try to get her back with the team so they can all work together again to stop Rittenhouse.

She pops open the back of the phone and removes the battery again, then picking up a small screwdriver, she pokes around inside. Maybe it’s not making any connection because they live enclosed by concrete walls, at least a hundred feet underground. Perhaps if she could get to the surface, to find a way to try to use the phone outside without Agent Christopher’s men catching her, then maybe she could make a quick phone call to Maria Thompkins and ask if Lucy is there. And if she is, then she could talk to her. If Rittenhouse makes a jump, she could ask her what the targets might be. She could ask her if she’s safe with Flynn, and tell her that it isn’t safe to return to the bunker – especially given her recent vision of Wyatt speaking to Emma, and now having overheard Denise speaking with Emma on the phone, receiving orders from Rittenhouse to disable the connection between the two time machines. She could ask Lucy how the two of them could work together without getting caught.

“Jiya? What are you doing?” Rufus asks, standing directly behind her.

Jiya startles and looks up at Rufus, his arms are crossed and he’s eyeing the old cell phone in her hand, obviously wanting an explanation.

“I need your help.” Jiya says, standing up. “I don’t know how to explain it, but ever since I went back to 1954, I’ve been having these visions.”

“Visions?”

“I don’t know if they’re one-hundred percent real, but I do know that I had one about Lucy where she was in a car with Flynn. I did a quick Google search and came across news articles saying that Lucy helped break Flynn out of prison and right now they’re on the run from authorities.” Jiya pauses, looking up into Rufus’s eyes, seeing that this is a lot of information to take all at once. “Look… whatever is going on, Agent Christopher is lying to us. Lucy _is_ alive, and she’s with Flynn. Now, I read a couple of the articles and one mentioned Flynn’s mother. She’s in Houston. And in one of my visions I was in that car with Lucy and Flynn, and we were driving towards Houston and traffic signs were flashing the word Novus at-”

Rufus holds out his hand to indicate to Jiya that she needs to slow down.

“Wait… what do you mean you’re having visions?” His forehead wrinkles with confusion.

“That’s not important here, Rufus. We’re struggling on these missions, chasing after Rittenhouse not knowing who or what is their target. If… I think that Lucy and Flynn are headed to his mother’s home in Houston. And if I can call Flynn’s mother then maybe I can talk to Lucy and we can…” Jiya drifts off, reconsidering her previous thoughts, “… I don’t know… it might not be safe for Lucy to come to the bunker, but if we can call her then we can ask her why Rittenhouse has jumped to whichever time they jump to. Lucy can still help us.”

“Whoa… back up… why wouldn’t it be safe for Lucy to come here? And… why do you think she’d be more safe with Flynn than here with us?” Rufus asks, touching her on the shoulder, leaning down to look her in the eyes.

“Because… I had another vision where…” Jiya softens her eyes as she knows what she says next is sensitive to Rufus, “… where I saw Wyatt talking to Flynn’s pilot, Emma, and… she was giving him orders to bring Lucy here and to kill her.”

Rufus doesn’t say anything. He looks at Jiya in disbelief. His features soften and he gently holds her arm and tugs at her, wanting to lead her back to bed, “Jiya, I think maybe you need to get some sleep.”

“No.” Jiya pulls away from Rufus, returning her attention back to the phone. She sits back down at the desk. “I know that I sound crazy. I understand how you think that, but I promise you that I’m not. Something is going on and I want to reach out and try to contact Lucy. We need her expertise and I want to at least let her know about my suspicions about Wyatt and Denise.”

“Your suspicions about Wyatt _and_ Denise?” Rufus is not buying this.

“I overheard Denise talking on her phone with Emma, something about Rittenhouse needing to disable the connection the Lifeboat has to the Mothership so they can make a jump undetected.”

“Jiya…”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, Rufus. I’m not one to sit around on my ass and wait to see what happens when everything is telling me that I need to do this. That maybe I’m having these visions to protect her… to protect us.”

“But Wyatt loves Lucy.” Rufus states. “Why would be agree to kill her? That doesn’t make sense. That’s not Wyatt, and… Denise… there’s no way she’s involved with Rittenhouse.” He steps toward her, and kneels down at her side. “Look, Jiya… any other day, anything else, and you know I’d have your back on this, but… to accuse Wyatt of agreeing to kill Lucy, without any other evidence other than some vision you’ve had, that’s just-”

“At Darlington, in the back of the car,” Jiya turns and stares him down, “I told Wyatt that I had a dream where those things happened and… you know how people have tells when they’re lying in poker? Well, when I told Wyatt he cleared his throat and he hesitated when I asked him if he had ever spoken to Emma.” Jiya pauses to let this information sink in. “He was lying, Rufus. I think that he has spoken to Emma, and I suspect that the conversations he’s had with her have been similar to what I saw in my vision.”

“Jiya… we’ve spent time living with Wyatt, you know just as I do that-”

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.” She turns her focus back on the phone, hurt that he doesn’t believe her. “I’m going to do this with or without your help, and I hope I can trust you to not mention this to either Agent Christopher or Wyatt.” She looks at Rufus, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “Can I trust you, Rufus?”

He looks at her with his mouth agape. He wants to believe her, but what she’s saying about having visions… Visions that might be linked to what happened to her on their trip to 1954. Visions that she seems to think link Agent Christopher, and maybe even Wyatt, to Rittenhouse… he says nothing more and only nods his head. He agrees to not let Denise or Wyatt know about this conversation. He pulls up another chair and sits next to Jiya.

“Here, let me see if I can figure out how to boost the phone’s connection.” He says, holding out his hand to show Jiya that even though he’s not sure he believes her, that he’s going to stand by her side anyway and help her do what she feels she needs to do.

Jiya sets her elbow on the desk and rests her face in the palm of her hand. She yawns and watches Rufus as he works on the phone.

“Do you think that we need to figure out how to upgrade the Lifeboat to allow us to travel within our own timeline?” She asks.

Rufus stops what he’s doing and looks at her, “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I’m thinking that maybe if we could travel back to 2016 and stop Flynn from stealing the Mothership, or a little further back and tell Connor to refuse to build Rittenhouse a time machine, that maybe none of this would have happened.”

“We can look into it.” He sets the phone down and gives Jiya all his attention. “I miss my family and I hate that they think I’m dead. If altering the Lifeboat so we can go back and just warn Connor about Rittenhouse would fix everything, you know that I’d do it.”

“But?”

“But… I can’t stop thinking about the responsibility we have to history. I mean, if we defeat Rittenhouse, shouldn’t it be in a way that restores any history that they’ve changed? Create some kind of reset?”

“They made ten jumps while the Lifeboat was out of commission, we have no way of knowing if our memory is accurate to the original timeline,” she says in frustration.

“You say that you think Lucy is with Flynn?”

Jiya nods her head.

“What if, and this sounds crazy, but what if he remembers what history was supposed to be like because he read Lucy’s journal?” Rufus asks. “The guy had Al Capone shoot me, but in hindsight…” He shakes his head, “… what if Flynn was right all along? I don’t want to shrug off what he did to me, but if Lucy really is with him then… and if she isn’t his prisoner… He did say once that he and Lucy were supposed to work together, to take down Rittenhouse. If she is with him, as his partner, then maybe this was supposed to happen all along.”

“I’m still afraid for Lucy. Not because she’s with Flynn though, but because I’ve had two visions now that have to do with her dying.” Jiya’s voice quivers as she struggles to maintain composure. Right now, she has no way of contacting Lucy and warning her about her visions.

“Jiya…”

Rufus reaches out and wraps his arms around her as she rests her chin on his shoulder, her arms grasping onto his back. She’s on the verge of tears. “What’s the point of me having these visions if I can’t use them? If I can’t use them to help, does that make me useless?”

Rufus pulls back and holds Jiya’s face in his hands. He looks her deep in the eyes, his heart breaks hearing her talk like that. “Jiya… you are not useless. Look at everything that you’ve been able to do. At Mason Industries, you hijacked the entire system to help cover our asses. You risked your life to travel with us to 1954.” Rufus kisses her on the forehead. “And you’ve been trying to get this antique cell phone to work, and I think you did it, it’s just we’re surrounded by concrete. So no, Jiya… you are not useless.”

“But my visions… if I can’t use them to help then-”

“Then we’ll figure out how we can use them to our advantage.”

Jiya nods her head, hearing him say this helps.

“If Rittenhouse is really trying to disconnect the Mothership from our system, then… maybe we can use your visions to track them instead.” Rufus says, suggesting a way that her visions can be useful.

“I don’t know how to control my visions, Rufus. It’s not like it’s something that I can turn off and on. They just… come to me.”

“Then we’ll figure it out, together.” Rufus pauses. “Look, before you were at Mason Industries, there was this guy… one of the first pilots for the Mothership, Stanley Fisher. You know how Connor always said that Anthony and Emma were the first to test the Mothership?”

Jiya nods her head.

“Well, that isn’t exactly accurate. Stanley was the first. It was… around 2012 and he did the first test run. Connor let him decide where he wanted to go, and he chose to go back to witness the Kennedy assassination in Dallas. He came back and-”

“Something went wrong?” Jiya asks.

“No. Everything seemed to be all right. The trip was smooth, the numbers were exactly as we had calculated. He had no physical side-effects and was monitored for an entire month just to make sure he was ok. Then Connor wanted to test a theory… but he didn’t tell anyone what his theory was, just that he asked Stanley to go back to some point after he had been born. He chose to go back to Detroit in 1994, apparently when he was a kid he was obsessed with that Tonya-Nancy, whack heard ‘round the world thing. Connor allowed it, and he went.”

“And this is the story about how we know it’s dangerous to travel in a time where we already exist?”

Rufus nods his head, “Stanley came back, and…” Rufus shakes his head at the memory, “and the hatch to the Mothership opened and he fell out, he was in agony. Screaming in pain, holding his head, bleeding from his eyes and nose. Medics rushed to him, and he started to convulse, eyes rolling back into his head. And then his body just stopped moving. He was still breathing, but he wasn’t responsive. He stayed like that for days. Connor refused to let Stanley out of the facility and set him up in a room at Mason Industries, to be monitored.”

“My eyes… in 1954… they were bloodshot too.” Jiya says quietly, terrified of what Rufus’s story means for her.

“He comes to about a week later. And when he came to, Jiya… he told us all about his trip to Detroit, and how he traveled to 1912 and survived the Titanic sinking, told us he wasn’t the only time traveler on the ship and that he helped the other two get into one of the lifeboats. He said that he wasn’t there as himself, but that he took over the body of one of the officers of the ship.”

“How is that possible?” Jiya asks. “I mean… ok, I don’t understand it, but when I’ve had my visions of Lucy, I’ve been Lucy. I’ve been able to look at my reflection in the mirror of a car and I see her, not myself.      

“Wait… you’re saying that these visions aren’t just visions and that you’re traveling in time?” Rufus asks, his brow wrinkles with concern.

“I think so. I don’t really know. I mean… what if my vision of Lucy was of the future? What if I’m traveling forward in time instead of back?”

“We’ve theorized that you can’t travel to the future though.”

“I know, because the future doesn’t actually exist. Only the past and present can be occupied.”

“Right. So… how could it be possible that that’s what your visions are? Are you positive that what you’ve seen hasn’t happened yet?” He asks.

“Or what if my visions are in the past of things that haven’t happened because Rittenhouse hasn’t yet gone back to that time to change history? For example…” Jiya reaches out and touches the bandage on Rufus’s arm where he burned himself in Darlington. “Before that mission, I had a vision that you would burn your arm, and you did. It happened in the past, but in our future, in the past.”

Rufus nods his head, he’s understanding.

“Like your visions are a glimpse into where Rittenhouse is traveling to?”

“Exactly. Which means that it’s possible what I saw in my vision of Lucy was in the past, but Rittenhouse, I don’t know, will send some red-head back to kill Lucy, but they haven’t done it yet.” Jiya pauses and looks at Rufus. “Did Lucy ever mention to you that she was in a car accident that landed her in a river?”

“No. We could ask Wyatt though. The two of them seemed to be pretty close.”

Jiya shakes her head, “I’d rather leave Wyatt out of this, at least for now. At least until I figure out my vision where he took orders from Emma to bring Lucy back here and kill her.”

“I can’t argue with that. The last thing I want is to endanger Lucy. I mean… Agent Christopher has been telling us that she was killed, and then you found articles that said otherwise, and then what you say you overheard Denise saying on the phone...”

“Does that mean that you believe me about Wyatt? That maybe he can’t be trusted?” Jiya asks.

Rufus sighs and Jiya’s heart sinks. All she wants is for Rufus to have her back on this. If Wyatt really is a problem, she needs to be able to talk to Rufus about it. It’s not like she can talk to Agent Christopher after what she overheard, and it would just be weird to talk to Connor because, well… first off, ever since moving into this bunker he’s taken on a strong liking of drinking alcohol. It’s not that he’s a bad drunk, he’s a fun drunk, but it indicates that his head isn’t in the right place. Second, he’s her boss. At least he used to be her boss up until Rittenhouse blew up Mason Industries and forced them into hiding.

“I’ll keep an open mind, Jiya. But I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary from Wyatt that indicates he’s a problem. But if you say that you saw him taking orders to kill Lucy… if we find her, I’ll keep a close eye on him so he’s not left alone with her, ok?”

Jiya sighs, that’s better than nothing. She nods her head.

“Ok, so… before everyone else wakes up, why don’t we figure out how to get out of the bunker unnoticed so you can try to make your call?” Rufus suggests, standing up, holding his hand out to Jiya. She takes it and the two of them leave their room and quietly search the bunker for possible escape routes so Jiya can try to call Flynn’s mother so she might be able to talk with Lucy.

\-----

Gunshots sound in the distance.

The forest is a warzone, and Lucy is running as fast as she can. She’s barefoot, and dressed only in a white chemise and corset. Her hair is a mess as if she’s put up a hard fight to get away from someone. She’s short of breath and she’s searching, scanning the area for Garcia. She hears him shouting, but she can’t see where he is.

“Lucy! I’m still here! Help me!”

Lucy’s heart stops when she hears her sister crying out for her, and then sees Amy on the ground, covered in blood. She’s dressed in modern tactical gear, and an assault rifle is at her side. Her hands      are pressing against her gut, trying to stop bleeding.

Lucy falls to her knees beside her sister, and presses her own hands on top of Amy’s to help apply pressure to stop the bleeding. There’s so much blood and Lucy knows that if she can’t get Amy to a hospital soon that she’s going to lose her.

“Garcia!” Lucy calls out. She looks down at Amy with tears in her eyes. “I’ll save you, Amy. I have to save you.”

Amy shakes her head and coughs up blood, “Lucy, I’m not going to make it…”

“Don’t talk like that-”

“Lucy… let me go… it’s ok…” Amy swats at Lucy, trying to get her to leave her to die. “Let me go… save him…”

Lucy slowly opens her eyes, waking up from her nightmare. Her heart pounds in her chest and tears sting her eyes. “Amy?” She sits up and looks around her room, remembering where she is.

Houston.

Texas.

Garcia’s mother’s home.

She lies back down and rolls to her side, wrapping her arm tightly around a pillow. She looks out the bedroom window. Raindrops race down the glass as a roll of thunder gently rattles the foundation of Maria’s home. Lucy nuzzles her cheek against the pillow and closes her eyes, imagining that she has her arms wrapped around Garcia and that he’s comforting her after her dream.

Despite not falling asleep until well after four in the morning, Lucy actually feels well-rested.

As much as she had wanted to knock on Garcia’s door last night, she’s glad that she stopped herself. She saw his shadow on the floor, from the other side of his bedroom door. She knew he was standing there. Maybe he was thinking of coming to her, maybe he wasn’t. It didn’t really matter what either of their intentions were because neither acted upon them.

 She went back to her own bed and he never came to her room.

She tossed and turned for over an hour playing out in her mind the various ways the night could have gone if she had knocked on his door. Some of the scenarios included kissing, touching underneath clothes, and even making love. That’s when she knew that going back to her room alone was the right decision. After last night’s fight and how they came to an understanding regarding this cooling off period, she knew that being with each other last night would have undone all of the progress they made together regarding that issue. And although she missed the feel of his arms draped over her waist as she fell asleep, she cuddled up with a pillow and that seemed to partially fill the void she felt in her soul without him. Eventually, sleep overcame her and she drifted in and out of dreams and nightmares all night. Even now she’s starting to forget the one she had as she woke.

The sound of the rain and thunder outside is soothing. She thinks that she could stay in bed all day long and enjoy not having to worry about stealing cars, removing the RH1955 tracking devices, getting shot at, or figuring out what to do with her hands when she wants to reach out and hold Garcia’s hand as he drives.

Maybe Garcia and his mother will allow her the luxury of staying in bed all day, and not judge her if she does get up and decides to stay in this extra-large t-shirt, her underwear, and a pair of Garcia’s socks for the rest of the day. Maybe she’ll go downstairs later and curl up with this burgundy afghan and watch Clark Gable movies all day long. She knows that she isn’t one-hundred percent safe from Rittenhouse, but laying here in this bed, surrounded by the soft fabric of its white sheets, she feels like maybe everything before had just been one long nightmare.

Lucy sits straight up in bed, suddenly terrified.

She looks around her and wonders if she’s feeling this way because Rittenhouse changed something as she slept. What if… what if Garcia isn’t here? What if this isn’t Maria’s home? What if the memories she has of last night aren’t real?

She leans over and grabs her locket necklace from the nightstand, closes her eyes and prays that hers and Amy’s pictures are still inside. She opens it, and the pictures are there just as they were yesterday. She falls back down onto her pillow and clutches her locket over her heart.

Then she hears the most beautiful sound in the world.

Garcia Flynn laughing.

Her body shakes as she exhales with relief.

He’s still here.

Rittenhouse hasn’t changed anything so that they are apart. And she knows, she absolutely knows that despite setting new boundaries with their relationship, that she wants him to be with her… always. Last night when he told her that he would choose her, even if Lorena and Iris were saved, she knew she wanted the same things he wants. She wants to be with him. She wants to know his girls, be friends with Lorena. She wants to build a life with him, have children of their own. She thinks back on him reciting her journal to her at the prison, and how in the future they live on a ranch in Montana.

That’s the future she wants.

And if they can reach that future with each other, and save the people they love… Lucy tightens her grip around the pillow and sighs. But as it is… they are so far away from that future that it seems an impossibility. With Rittenhouse still a threat to their existence and their memories, if ever there was a day when she wakes up and he’s not there with her, she knows she would be heartbroken, if she remembered who he was. She knows her mother, she knows Emma, and she knows Rittenhouse. They view Garcia as this huge exponential threat to their very existence, and she’s sure that the fact that her, their princess, teaming up with him, makes his threat just that much worse. Even Rittenhouse understands that together they are quite the team.

Lucy places her locket around her neck and rests on her side, staring back out the window. She can hear Garcia speaking with his mother downstairs. She doesn’t hear every word they say, but she does hear him say her name and it brings a smile to her face.

She’s happy for him.

He had been so worried about reuniting with his mother last night.

When she excused herself to go outside and sit by the pool, she wished that she could hear what they were saying, so she might know how to offer him comfort if things didn’t go well. But… after spending time with Maria, she didn’t really think that things wouldn’t go well, but she knows that Garcia has the tendency to make a huge mess out of nothing, and she wanted to be prepared for the worst.

She had glanced back several times and watched as he and his mother sat on the living room couch. How his mom had wiped away tears from his eyes, how he struggled to look at her, and that broke her heart. Seeing him so broken, crying into his mother’s arms. The man she saw last night was not the same man that she had spent months chasing through time, a man she used to be afraid of. He was the man she’s seen the past few days. The man who protected her, took care of her, who comforted her, talked to her, and listened.  He thought that he had lost his humanity, but that isn’t true. It’s always been there, hiding behind his own grief. He has become himself again, the man who had been a good husband and father… Garcia Flynn.

Sitting with her feet in the pool, she had tried not to worry about her little fight with him outside Maria’s home, and took comfort in the fact that back at the visitation unit at the prison, they had both struggled to stay angry at the other for long. She told herself that just because they had a little fight doesn’t mean that he stopped caring for her, or loving her.

She thought back to a time when her mother and her father, Henry Wallace, had been fighting when she was just a little girl. She had been in bed and heard the yelling and the crying, and when it settled down, she cautiously made her way out of her bedroom and found her father sitting in front of his office fireplace. She had dragged her lavender unicorn blanket with her into the room and sucked on her thumb, staring at her dad until he noticed her. When he did, he motioned to her to come to him and she sat on his lap. She started to cry and he asked if she had heard mommy and daddy fighting and all she could do was nod her head yes, and rest her head against his chest. She was too young to understand that mommies and daddies fight.

Her dad held her in his arms, running his hand over the top of her head, and told her that sometimes parents fight and that it was ok, that he understood that it must have been scary for her, but that fighting isn’t always a bad thing. That sometimes mommies and daddies have to fight in order to remember how much they love each other.

She didn’t understand what he meant by that until she was a Sophomore in college and had her first big fight with her boyfriend, Jake. It was the night before she made the decision to drop out of school to join his band. The night before she said “fuck it” and got a lily tattoo on her lower back. It was the night before the car accident that eventually pushed her and Jake apart, reeling her back into her mother’s control of her life.

Like Amy, Jake accused her of always obeying her mother. He told her that she was never going to grow up and be responsible to herself or to her relationships, if she continued to allow herself to stay firmly underneath her mother’s thumb. For the first time in her relationship with Jake, she understood that it was ok to fight, that sometimes fighting can open your eyes to what is really going on. It can help you grow as an individual and as a couple.

The next day she went with Jake to get her defiant tattoo, and that night she drove to her mother’s home with every intention to tell her that she was hitting the road with Jake and his band, and that she was going to sing, and live one paycheck to paycheck. That she was going to see the country without her mother dictating where she should go, what she should see, and what she should learn from her travels. That fight with Jake opened her eyes to the possibilities of what her life could be if she only had the confidence to tell her mother “no.”

That fight upset her because it made her face the hard fact that she had become her mother’s puppet, but it helped her see that there was so much in life that she was missing out on. It made her want to rebel. It made her want to live life on the road, windows down and her hair blowing in the wind. It made her want to drink beer and laugh, and sing karaoke with friends, to make love in the back of cars, and to live recklessly for once because all her life she had been sheltered and she was sick of it. She was sick of worrying about whether or not she was pleasing her mother. She was sick of not being herself, of not being Lucy Preston.

And then the accident happened.

Her car had spun out of control, rolling down the shallow hill into a river. She remembered pounding on the windows and screaming for help. She remembered thinking “this is it.” She only vaguely remembers being pulled out of the car to safety as she lost consciousness, waking up hours later in a hospital. Her mother sitting at her bedside, holding her hand. She had been in bad shape with cuts and bruises all over her body.

She was lucky to be alive.

She never did tell her mom that she had been planning to quit school to join a band. That night in the hospital, she had looked into her mother’s eyes and had seen how worried she was, how scared she was that her daughter was going to die. There was no way that Lucy could abandon her mother after that.

Lucy refused to let Jake see her while she was in the hospital and once she was released, she had ignored all his phone calls. He eventually gave up on her and left. Last she heard, he was married with two kids, and is working as an electrical engineer somewhere in Missouri. Though she loved him, she was also thankful that things didn’t work out with him because later she… she met Wyatt and… despite time travel and Rittenhouse, things seemed to have been falling into place with him, even if she was just convincing herself that their talk of possibilities meant something more.

From downstairs she hears Garcia tell his mom that he’ll go see if she’s awake. The stairs creak underneath his weight as he makes his way to her room. She closes her eyes so that he thinks that he’s waking her up.

He quietly knocks on the door and opens it, “Lucy… are you awake?”

Lucy squeezes her arm around the pillow and nuzzles her cheek into it as she feels him sit on the edge of her bed. Her heart is racing as she feels his fingers gently caress her shoulder.

“Lucy…?”

Lucy can’t stop herself from smiling as he gently nudges her shoulder again and brushes a strand of hair from the side of her face.

“Lucy… I see you smiling… good morning.”

Lucy can hear the smile in his voice. She slowly rolls onto her back to look up at him. She smiles and murmurs, “Good morning.”

“My mom made brunch and she was worried about you sleeping in so long.” He kneads his thumb on her shoulder, not wanting to stop touching her. “She really likes you, you know?”

Lucy yawns, raising her arms over her head. Her white t-shirt lifts, exposing her midriff. She watches as Garcia stops himself from placing his hand on her waist. She lowers her arms, but doesn’t tug her shirt down. Instead, she rolls onto her side and looks at him. He’s dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He hasn’t shaved in a couple days and the scruff she loves so much is growing back in.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks.

“It took me awhile to get to sleep, but yeah… once I fell asleep, I slept well enough. You?”

“I uh… I had a hard time getting to sleep. I had a lot on my mind so I… I read what you wrote in our journal and… I made my first entry.”

Lucy nods her head, more to herself than to him. She knows that reading her journal is no big mystery for him, that he must be used to reading her inner thoughts by now, but… now she’ll be able to read what is on his mind, read what he deems important to their fight against Rittenhouse.

“Lucy, I-”

“Garcia…”

They look into each other’s eyes unable to speak. He wants to ask her if she had stood outside his door early this morning, and she wants to ask him if he had wanted to be with her last night. Their unasked questions hang heavy in the air between them. But neither of them says anything. They both open their mouths and begin speaking again, but Garcia defers to her with a wave of his hand.

“You first.” He says.

“Do you think your mother would mind if I borrowed something to wear from her closet?” She sits up. “I’m kind of tired of wearing the same old t-shirts, jeans and sweats.” She smiles.

“I don’t think she’ll mind. She’d probably tell you herself to raid her closet if you came downstairs in clothes that I picked out for you at gas stations.” He chuckles. “I don’t exactly know how to pick out clothes for women, you know?”

“Hey.” Lucy objects. “You picked out a very nice dress for me when you took me to Chicago, remember?” She playfully pokes Garcia on his shoulder as she stands up.

“Let me show you to her room.” He stands, placing his hand on her back.

He doesn’t really have to show her to his mother’s room. After all, he did point it out to her last night before she took her shower. But Lucy doesn’t mind. She likes the way his hand feels on her back – warm and comforting. They make their way into Maria’s bedroom and Garcia removes his hand from Lucy as he opens his mother’s closet door.

“There’s a lot of dresses and turtlenecks.” Lucy observes.

The landline phone on Maria’s nightstand rings, Garcia looks over his shoulder at it, but decides not to answer. In fact, he shouldn’t answer. No one knows that he’s here and he’d like to keep it that way.

Lucy stands next to him, and runs her hand down his arm as she starts rummaging through his mother’s clothing. Her fingers glide over different dresses and shirts. She stops on a brown sun dress with floral patterns embroidered in the fabric with black lace. She holds it against her and looks to Garcia to see if he thinks it would look nice on her.

He smiles and nods his head at her as his mother comes into the room.

“Lucy?” Maria says.

“Yes?” Lucy turns and looks at Garcia’s mother.

“There’s a Jiya Marri on the phone for you. She says it’s urgent.”

Lucy drops the sun dress to the floor and looks at Maria in disbelief, “Jiya?”

“Yes, dear.” Maria holds out the old cordless phone to Lucy.

Lucy takes the phone in her hand and covers the mouthpiece. She looks up at Garcia with worry in her eyes, asking him _how is this possible? Jiya is supposed to be dead?_ She gestures for Garcia to lean down and listen in as she speaks.

“Jiya…?” Lucy says, not expecting to actually hear her friend’s voice on the other end. She can’t help but think that this is some trap set up by Rittenhouse and that she and Garcia are going to have to get out of here as quickly as possible.

“Lucy? Oh my God, Lucy!” Jiya exclaims through the earpiece. “I don’t have much time because Agent Christopher doesn’t know I’m calling, but… Rittenhouse just jumped to Los Angeles, January second, 1941. Any idea why they’d go there?”

“Jiya? I… are you all right? I thought… you were dead. Did Rittenhouse change something so you-” Lucy looks up at Garcia, shaking her head as Jiya interrupts her.

“Lucy, we need your help. We’ve failed one mission and we can’t do that again. We came back and Rittenhouse has control over cars and tracking them, all because… it’s a long story, but Lucy… Los Angeles. 1941?”

“Are Wyatt and Rufus with yo-”

“Lucy, please… I’ll call and explain more later, but… L.A., 1941?”

“I don’t know…” Lucy looks at Garcia, tears in her eyes. Her friend is alive and if Jiya is alive and telling her that they need her help that very well could mean that Wyatt and Rufus are alive too. She fumbles around 1941 to Jiya, “Hitler’s in power. Europe’s engulfed in World War two… there was the ASCAP boycott… the first German bombing of Dublin took place on the second, but that was in Europe, not Los Angeles. Umm…” Lucy struggles to think of anything else that happened during this time. “I think that Marlene Dietrich was about to become a United States citizen… and on the sixth, President Roosevelt will make his Four Freedoms speech during his State of the Union address… but…” Lucy shakes her head. “I can’t think of anything that was going on in Los Angeles at that time.”

Garcia taps her on the shoulder and holds his finger up to let her know to keep Jiya on the line. He goes to his mother’s nightstand and picks up a memo book and pencil. He starts writing something on it, he brings it over to Lucy and shows her a sketch of the Paramount Pictures logo.

“Jiya, hold on. Here’s Garcia.” Lucy hands the phone to him so he can explain his sketch to Jiya.

“Garcia…?” Jiya asks, confused that Lucy is calling Flynn by his first name.

He places the earpiece to the side of his head. “Jiya, I found a drawing of… of the Paramount Pictures logo on a Rittenhouse agent once, it was dated 1941. I think that Rittenhouse might be targeting someone in the business of making movies.”

Garcia looks to Lucy, about to ask her what movies Rittenhouse might deem as too dangerous to their vision of America. He stops short and quickly averts his eyes when he sees that she’s removed her white t-shirt and is standing with her bare back to him, slipping on his mother’s brown sun dress. His mother is rummaging through her closet, on her hands and knees, looking for shoes that Lucy can wear. There’s an urgency in the way Lucy dresses and he is sure that he knows what is on her mind. She wants to go back to San Francisco, to go back to her team now that she knows they’re alive.

“Jiya, are you still there?” He asks.

“I am.” Jiya pauses, deciding if she is going to trust Flynn. “Look, we’ve figured out that Rittenhouse has used the Mothership to go back in time and plant sleeper agents. We think when they jump now that they are going back to activate them. These agents are living in the past, establishing their identities in order to do Rittenhouse’s dirty work.”

“So, they finally managed to do that, huh?” Garcia feels his heart race. Right after he brought Emma Whitmore back from the 1880s, she had told him and Anthony that this is exactly what Rittenhouse planned to do if they got their hands on the Mothership.

“Flynn?” Jiya sounds apprehensive. “You’re protecting Lucy, aren’t you?”

“Lucy’s safe, Jiya. I promise you that. But I think you need to know that-”

“Whatever you do, don’t let Lucy come back to San Francisco. Agent Christopher is Rittenhouse and… and they want her dead. Do you know anything about a car accident-”

The phone call ends abruptly.

Garcia looks at the phone and presses the off button. He sets it down on his mother’s bed. Lucy spins around, throwing her hair up into a ponytail as Maria stands up, holding a pair of two-inch heels in her hands that match Lucy’s dress perfectly.

“We’re going back to San Francisco.” Lucy tells him. “Jiya says they need my help, and I cannot turn my back on them. If Jiya managed to call me here, that means that it must be safe. Maybe Agent Christopher returned to Rittenhouse, maybe it’s safe there now.”

“Lucy…” He wets his lips and steps toward her. “Before the call ended, she told me that I can’t let you go back. She confirmed that Christopher is Rittenhouse, and I think that wherever they are-”

“She said that they failed a mission.” Lucy grabs onto his arms with both hands. “They need me and we have to go back. You can come with me or you can stay here, that’s up to you, but I’m going.” Lucy takes hold of his hands and looks him in the eye. “I will do this without you, but I prefer that you come with me.”

“You know what Rittenhouse wants to do to you, Lucy.” He argues, letting go of her hands so he can run his hand over her hair. “And if we go back, you risk them finding you and taking you back to seventeen-twenty-”

“That doesn’t matter.” She shakes her head, placing her hands on his hips. “I don’t matter. If we can travel back in time with my team then… then maybe we can stop Rittenhouse and everything that is supposed to happen to me to ensure that David Rittenhouse is born-”

“Even if I agreed, rushing back right now isn’t going to get you on this trip to 1941.” He holds her by her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. “I understand that you want to help, so do I, but Lucy…”

“Perhaps… I… can help.” Maria interrupts them.

Garcia and Lucy turn their heads simultaneously and look at her.

“Remember how I told you that I remembered you, Garcia? From 1969?” Maria says, cautiously.

Lucy places her hand on Garcia’s arm and looks at him with wide eyes. Why didn’t he tell her about that last night?

“When I realized that you had traveled through time to save your brother, I… I began research, working not only on theorizing if time travel was possible. I already knew that it was, but I wanted to invent it, to build a time machine. I knew that you wouldn’t need one to save Gabe again, but my instinct told me that there were other reasons why you were traveling in time.”

Lucy looks at Garcia with hope in her eyes. She lets go of his waist and steps toward Maria.

“What are you saying?” Lucy asks.

“What I’m saying is that I’ve been working with a small team, and we have a machine.”

“Then we need to get to it and go to 1941 and find Jiya, and Wyatt, and Rufus.” Lucy says, walking toward the bedroom door. She holds on to so much hope that all of her friends survived the bombing of Mason Industries. She wants to see them all again. To hug them, and know that they really are alive.

Maria steps in front of Lucy to keep her from rushing out of the room, “Lucy, sweetheart… we’ve never tested our machine. We’re a couple weeks away from our first test, if you could wait a little while longer…”

Lucy turns around and looks at Garcia, tears forming in her eyes, silently begging him to help her convince his mother to take them to her time machine so that she can go find her friends and help them in 1941. They hold each other’s gaze and he slowly nods his head, looking to his mother.

“Mom… can you show us your machine?” He asks, knowing that it will be easier to convince her to let them test run her time machine if they can get to it first. “Lucy and I, we’ve both traveled in two different time machines, we might be able to help you determine the safety of yours.”

“There are _two_ other time machines?” Maria asks.

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain on the way there.” Garcia says.

\-----

The drive to NOVUS didn’t take long. Garcia sat in the back of his mother’s car while he let Lucy sit shotgun. On the drive in, both Lucy and Garcia told Maria about Rittenhouse. They were surprised to discover that Maria had heard of the organization and that the group had been public for decades. She even told them that she used to own one of their vacuum cleaners. She listened to them explain that Rittenhouse is this secret group that commissioned a time machine from Connor Mason of Mason Industries and that Garcia had stolen it last year in an attempt to go back in time to prevent Rittenhouse from ever existing. That he hoped by doing so that he could save Lorena and Iris who had been murdered by Rittenhouse

That’s all Maria had to hear, that Rittenhouse had killed her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. She had intended to only show Garcia and Lucy her time machine since it hasn’t yet been tested for safety, but after hearing what they did to her son, to her family, there’s no way she was going to let them stand around for a couple of weeks and risk Rittenhouse changing more history to further manipulate the population, and to gain even more power than they already have.

As President of NOVUS, it wasn’t difficult for Maria to get security clearance for Garcia and Lucy to accompany her down to the Kroz Vrijeme project bunker, two-hundred feet below the surface of NOVUS’s headquarters building just outside of Houston. The three of them stand in the elevator as it slowly makes its way down to the project bunker. Maria looks back at her son and smiles.

He’s dressed in one of his grandfather’s pinstripe suits from the 1940s, and despite her insistence that he shave his five o’clock shadow, he had refused, citing that he was a rebel and they were going back to Hollywood. But in actuality, he didn’t want a clean-shave since Lucy had mentioned before that she liked him with a little scruff. He holds their journal in his hand. As they rushed to leave the house, he and Lucy decided that they don’t want to risk Rittenhouse changing their history, thus changing what they’ve already written in their journal, so they brought it along to keep in Maria’s time machine for safe-keeping while they travel back to 1941.

Lucy wears Garcia’s grandmother’s solid forest green tea dress which rests just below her knees, she’s wearing matching two-inch heel pumps, and a white ladies fedora hat with a forest green ribbon. She has a small white handbag slung over her shoulder.

Garcia glances down at Lucy as she fidgets with the hat. He leans down and whispers to her, “You know you don’t have to wear the hat just yet, Lucy.”

Lucy nervously removes the hat. Her hair is neatly parted down the middle, not one hair out of place, mimicking the hairstyle of actresses such as Vivien Leigh and Hedy Lamarr of the 1940s.

“Lucy looks absolutely stunning, doesn’t she, Garcia?” Maria asks, putting her son on the spot after noticing him gazing at Lucy.

Garcia looks at Lucy and smiles, “Vivien Leigh has nothing on her.”

“You’d be more accurate to compare me to Hedy Lamarr.” Lucy says. “She was one of the most popular actresses of the day. And Vivien Leigh actually copied Hedy’s center-part hairstyle, a lot of women did.”

“Hedy Lamarr? Wasn’t she one of the first actresses to-” He stops himself and feels his cheeks burn red.

Lucy looks at him and figures out what he was going to ask, she answers his unasked question, “She was only eighteen years old when she starred in Ecstasy. It wasn’t a pornographic film, but it was the first film to feature a woman simulating an orgasm on screen. It was actually a big turning point in Hedy’s career, turned her into an international star. It opened the door for other opportunities for her in the States.” Lucy smiles up at Garcia, humored to see his cheeks flushed red. “She actually was credited as Hedy Kiesler in Ecstasy, and later changed her name to Lamarr because, well… in the nineteen-thirties, performing an orgasm on screen was a little too risqué.” Lucy smiles up at Garcia, “Even more so than the end of It Happened One Night when it was suggested that Peter and Ellie were having sex.”

Maria laughs out loud and turns around to pinch Garcia’s cheek, “I really like your Lucy, Garcia. She’s spunky. Not afraid to talk about sex and orgasms in front of your mother. Whenever you two finally do the deed, I bet I’ll be able to get all sorts of sordid details out of her.”

“Please, don’t.” He’s mortified and can’t hide it.

Even Lucy blushes at Maria’s last comment. She bumps her shoulder into Garcia’s arm and gives him a sympathetic smile to let him know that she gets it, and she’s a bit mortified too.

“Anyway,” Lucy continues, “Hedy’s husband at the time, Friedrich Mandl, actually tried to buy every copy of Ecstasy that he could find to try to keep it out of public consumption. He was jealous of men who found his wife attractive.”

“And she invented frequency hopping, right?” Garcia asks, knowing the answer. He just enjoys listening to the excitement in Lucy’s voice as she talks about history.

“She did.” Lucy is excited that Garcia knows about Hedy from her inventions instead of just her Hollywood career and pretty face. “She and composer George Antheil actually worked together on it. She came up with the idea of how radio-controlled torpedoes might help even things up between the British and the Germans, and George’s younger brother was one of the first American casualties of World War two, which was probably his driving force behind the work he did with Hedy.”

The elevator door opens to the security room just outside the Kroz Vrijeme project bunker. Maria, Lucy and Garcia step out and show their credentials. The security officer asks the women to place their handbags in a plastic tub so they can be x-rayed and searched. Garcia places the journal in the tub, and removes a wallet from his back pocket and places it in the tub as well.

Maria and Lucy pass through the metal detector without a problem.

Garcia, on the other hand, sets it off.

“Do you have any metal objects on your person, sir?” The security guard asks.

“I do.” Garcia answers. “A gun.”

Lucy’s stomach ties into knots. She doesn’t know what is going to happen. She’s witnessed him pull guns out on men like Charles Cornwallis, and President Lincoln, killing them without a second thought. She holds her breath as Garcia reaches into his suit jacket and shows the security guard his gun.

“You’ll have to leave your gun here with me, sir.” The security officer turns around and retrieves a lockbox.

“I don’t think so.” Garcia tells him.

Lucy steps forward and touches Garcia’s arm, shaking her head hoping that he’ll do as asked, and not cause any trouble.

“Lucy, I’m not going to 1941 unarmed.” He tells her, leaning down slightly closer to her face.

Lucy shakes her head, “You can find a gun when we get there. It’s ok. Please don’t make this a problem.”

Garcia looks into Lucy’s eyes and sees that she’s afraid of what he might do.

“Lucy, I…”

“Garcia, please…” Her eyes plead with him to let this go.

Maria watches the interaction between them. Before Lucy spoke to her son, he was tense, ready to take action to keep his weapon. But once Lucy stepped toward him and placed her hand on his arm, he relaxed. He gave her his full, undivided attention. Lucy has him wrapped around her finger, and Maria has no doubt that her son will do whatever Lucy asks of him.

Garcia wets his lips and looks from Lucy to the security officer. He points the muzzle of his gun toward the floor and unloads it. He places the weapon, and its ammunition, inside the lockbox and looks to Lucy. She nods her head and mouths off “thank you.”

The security officer unlocks the door and they step out onto a balcony walkway, overlooking the Kroz Vrijeme project floor. The time machine stands in the middle of the floor, its spherical design and reflective metal surface demanding attention. Maria motions to them to follow her down to the main floor.

“The machine has a built-in autopilot function. I was a big fan of Back To The Future and figured that being able to punch in dates and times would be a lot easier than having to do complicated mathematics each time you make a jump through time. We have no way of knowing if the ride will be bumpy, so the chairs are equipped with seatbelts. We were able to _illegally_ obtain a nuclear core so you won’t have to worry about the machine running out of power to get you back home.” Maria turns around and crosses her arms, and she says in her most serious tone. “Do not travel back to a time where you’ve already been, or after you have been conceived and born.”

“We understand.” Lucy says.

“And you cannot travel forward into the future because the future doesn’t yet exist, and we don’t know what the consequences of trying to do that would be.”

“Is there any way that you could get me my gun back?” Garcia asks. “I really don’t want to have to steal an antique. I’d rather go prepared with a weapon I’m proficient in using.”

Maria looks at Lucy to gauge her reaction to his request.

“Rittenhouse is dangerous.” Lucy says. “If you can get his weapon back, I would appreciate it.”

Maria nods her head, “I’ll see what I can do. You two wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Garcia watches as his mother hurries away, heading back up the stairs to go speak with the security officer. He looks at Lucy and nods his head.

“Thank you.” He tells her.

“Believe me, if I could fit a gun in this tiny purse, I’d be asking her to get one for me too.” Lucy says, setting her hat down on the desk next to her.

“Ok, Lucy, this is our first official mission together as a team. You’re in charge.” He tells her, then wets his lips. “Do you have any rules?”

“We don’t split up. I’m unarmed and we don’t know if we’ll be able to find Wyatt, Rufus or Jiya when we get there. I’m assuming they’ll find a way onto the Paramount lot, so we’ll go there as well. If we have to sneak in anywhere, you do not shoot anyone unless they are a threat to our lives. That gun is for our protection. It isn’t a key to open every door.”

Garcia nods his head.

Lucy continues, “Since we’ll be trying to fit in with Hollywood, we need a cover story in case we get stopped and asked questions.”

“I was thinking we could say we’re an aspiring actors, just in from Europe. I can’t exactly get rid of my accent.”

Lucy nods her head, “You’ll be from Yugoslavia and I’ll say I’m a friend of Joséphine Baker. That we’re a duet act that has opened for some of her shows in Paris. I spent some time with her in 1927 and wouldn’t exactly be lying if I said I knew her.” Lucy looks to Garcia and can’t resist dropping more tidbits of history at him. “Right now, Joséphine’s preparing to go to North Africa, to the French colonies, to help the Resistance, but she’ll state that she’s going there due to health reasons, which isn’t exactly a lie either since she goes there as she’s recovering from a bout with pneumonia.”

“You actually met her then, Joséphine?”

Lucy smiles. “She’s a remarkable woman. While she’s in Africa, she obtains information that she smuggles back into Europe by pinning the notes inside her underwear, completely relying on her celebrity status to not get strip searched.”

“You have an interest for women in the performing arts, don’t you?”

“I believe I did tell you that growing up that I wanted to be a dancer.” She winks at him.

Garcia smiles and recalls how Lucy sang _The Good Ship Lollipop_ to him during her prison visit. Even though that was less than a week ago, it seems like another lifetime.

“I mean… if I could use a time machine to travel back just for leisure, one of my first stops would be to Saint Petersburg, Russia on December twenty-second, 1905, just to see Anna Pavlova’s first ballet performance of Saint-Saëns’ The Dying Swan.”

“Maybe one day my mom will let us take this machine and I could take you on a date to see that performance.” Garcia says, knowing that saying this might trespass into their cooling off period.

“Maybe…” Lucy says, she opens her mouth, wanting to ask him where he might want to visit in time just for fun, but she stops when she sees Maria approaching them.

“Here’s your gun.” Maria says, handing the weapon to her son along with a handful of its ammunition. “Martin wasn’t pleased to hand it over, but I explained to him that I’m in charge and that I can make exceptions to rules.” Maria starts walking toward her time machine. She climbs up metal stairs and opens its hatch and steps up inside of it. She points to a blue button. “This button activates the machine. Nothing inside will work until you hit this button.”

Lucy starts up the stairs and takes Garcia’s hand as he offers it to her, steadying herself with his support until she’s standing next to Maria inside the machine. Garcia follows her inside, ducking his head so he doesn’t hit his head on the doorframe. He stands beside Lucy as his mother shows them how to use the autopilot function.

“Now, I spoke with my team and I need to let you both know that the safety inspections have not been completed. There is a small risk that the moment you hit the button to launch you into the past that the machine could explode or disintegrate, or do something equally as awful but unpredictable to us now.”

“We accept those risks.” Lucy says.

Maria takes in a deep breath and surprises Lucy with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. “You take care of my little boy on this mission, ok?” She looks at Garcia. “Stick together, and… come back safe.” Maria hugs Garcia tightly as he wraps his arms around her. She whispers to him, “I love you,” kisses him on the cheek as he tells her that he loves her too. She caresses the side of his face and steps out of the machine.

Garcia watches her as she steps down the metal stairs and pulls them away from the machine. He goes to press the red button next to the hatch so that it closes. He turns to Lucy. She’s still standing. Now that his mother is gone, and they are alone inside this untested time machine, she looks nervous and absolutely terrified. Tears threaten to fall from her eyes.

“Hey…” He says, stepping toward her, reaching out to touch her arm. “What is it?”

Lucy shakes her head and wipes a tear from her eye.

“I just want this to be over.” She tells him. “I want to see my friends, I need to know that they’re ok, and…” She sits down and buckles herself in, shaking her head and unable to finish her sentence.

Garcia sits down in the seat next to her, and buckles his seatbelt. He turns to face Lucy and takes her hands in his. “We’ll find your friends, Lucy. And we’ll stop whatever it is that Rittenhouse is hoping to accomplish in Los Angeles. Then we’ll come back here, or… or if you want to return with Jiya, you can, just so long as they don’t return to wherever it is they’re staying now so that Agent Christopher can’t turn you over to Rittenhouse.”

Lucy lifts her head and looks at him, hurt that he would think she would abandon him to go back with her friends, especially after everything the two of them have been through.

“I’m fighting Rittenhouse with you now, Garcia.” She squeezes his hand. “You said that Jiya told you that it wasn’t safe for me to go back with them, so stop trying to push me away from you – especially after you just suggested taking me on a date to see Pavlova.” She shakes her head in disbelief. She sighs, “I choose _you_ , Garcia. You and me, we’re a team. And we can work in conjunction with the others. All we have to do is figure out how to stay in contact with each other without Agent Christopher or Rittenhouse finding out about us or this time machine.”

“So, when we get back, we need to sit down and figure out an actual plan of attack, especially since Rittenhouse doesn’t know we can travel through time?”

Lucy nods her head and adds, “That is if we don’t disintegrate first.” Her eyes look to the autopilot screen and she leans forward and punches in the date: Thursday, 2 January, 1941.

She looks at Garcia as her finger hovers over the green “time jump” button. He nods his head to let her know that she can press the button and she does. She sits back in her seat and glances at Garcia as the machine revs up.

Their eyes lock, and Lucy reaches out her hand, opening it to him, and he places his hand in hers as the air temperature around them heats up quickly. The machine begins to vibrate, shaking more violently than either the Mothership or Lifeboat ever had. Lucy tightens her grip on his hand when all she wants to do is grasp onto him, and hold him close to her because if this thing explodes… she closes her eyes, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that she loves him. And if there’s no time to say it, the least she can do is hold him.

The machine shakes so violently, and whirs so loudly, that they both think that this is it.

This is the end.

Then without any warning. The machine jolts and their bodies thrust forward as the machine falls silent and absolutely still. A low humming noise is heard that grows gradually louder and louder until the high pitch whistle pierces their ears. Their bodies are forced backward, slamming them hard against the back of their seats. The machine shakes again as the engines slow. And then…

Silence.

Lucy opens her eyes and looks at Garcia. His eyes are squeezed shut and his hand is grasping onto hers so tightly that it hurts, but she doesn’t care. The machine didn’t explode and they didn’t disintegrate.

“Garcia?” Her voice shakes as she speaks.

He opens his eyes and looks at her, then down at their hands. She’s holding onto him just as hard as he’s holding onto her. Neither one of them wants to let go.

“I think… I’m not sure until we open the hatch, but… I think it worked.” Lucy says.

Garcia nods his head.

“Are you ok?” She asks.

He shakes his head “no.” He lets go of her hand, unbuckles his seatbelt and throws himself at the door, pressing the red button to open the hatch. He stumbles out of the machine and onto his hands and knees on the grass below. He throws up. Lucy is at his side, rubbing his back. He presses his hands against his knees and kneels upright. He spits and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. He looks at Lucy.

“I’m sorry.”

Lucy shakes her head and runs her hand through his hair to fix it for him, she trails the back of her fingers against his jaw, resting her hand on the side of his neck. She leans forward and places a soft kiss on his forehead, allowing her lips to linger on his skin longer than she should for two people who have recently agreed to step back and wait on pursuing a relationship. She stands and holds Garcia’s hand to help him to his feet.

And there, just behind the Hollywoodland sign on Mount Lee, Garcia and Lucy stand together, hand-in-hand, overlooking Los Angeles, California, on January 2nd, 1941.


	9. Hollywoodland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garcia and Lucy have traveled back to 1941 Los Angeles. They not only hope to meet up with Jiya, but also hope to find the Rittenhouse sleeper agent and stop him before changes can be made to history.

 

The streets of 1941 Los Angeles are bustling, car horns blare, and teenagers run past Lucy and Garcia as they walk arm-in-arm on the sidewalk. They pass by a 5¢ Coffee and Donut shop, a Money to Loan business, and a billiards hall. Lucy holds onto her forest green fedora hat as a gust of wind threatens to blow it up into the air. They pass a record store that is playing Benny Goodman’s _In The Mood_.

Garcia can’t help but smile as he glances down at Lucy. She’s smiling and her eyes sparkling. This is her favorite era in history and it shows. She tightens her grip on Garcia’s pinstripe coat with her white gloved hand and pulls herself closer to him.

She looks up at him and thinks about the last time they worked together on a mission. He had gone back to 1954 to blow up members of Rittenhouse at their summit. Back then, he had been so lost, willing to take his own life to stop them. She looks away from him and reflects back to her last days in Rittenhouse captivity. Even she had come to the decision that if given the opportunity she was willing to give her life to stop them. In many ways, she and Garcia are very much alike. And she knows that their similarities draw them to each other. They think the same way. They enjoy the same things. They understand each other, and without words, they know what the other is thinking or what the other needs.

They come to a stop on the corner and wait as a gorgeous white convertible passes. Garcia takes his eyes off of Lucy and follows the car as it turns the corner.

“That’s a Delahaye 135 convertible, Lucy.” He smiles. “Never thought I’d see one of those in person.”

“You know about cars?” She asks, genuinely interested in the fact he seems to know about expensive antique cars of the 1940s.

“Actually, not much, but my father always had antique car magazines laying around the house. I’d glance at them from time to time. I know that a lot of people romanticize the cars of the 1950s, but I’m partial to the classic design and styles of the forties.”

An olive-green Rolls Royce passes them and Lucy watches as it turns the corner. She shakes her head as she steps off the sidewalk. “I know what you mean. The forties…” She shakes her head and smiles. “This is my favorite era. I mean… haven’t you dreamed of taking a ride in a 1940s Rolls Royce like that one?”

“Want me to steal one for you?” He says in jest, but all she has to do is say the word, and he’d do it. “After we find Jiya and help them with this mission, we could take a little joyride up the coast, if you’d like.”

“Are you suggesting another date, Garcia Flynn?” Lucy laughs and pats his arm. She’s touched that he’s giving thought to taking her out on dates. First, he suggests that maybe he could take her back to 1905 to see Anna Pavlova do her very first performance of _The Dying Swan_ , and now he wants to steal a Rolls Royce so they can joyride up the California cost in 1941.

“All you have to do is say the word, Lucy.” He smiles down at her. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“No. We shouldn’t. I’d love to, but we shouldn’t.” She laughs and caresses his arm.

“What?” He chuckles.

“Nothing… it’s just…”

“It’s just, what?” He asks, wanting to know what’s making her smile right now.

“After everything we’ve been through this week. The ups and downs. The fighting and making up…” She shakes her head. “I guess that I’m just happy at how comfortable I am with you.”

Garcia smiles trying not to look too touched by her comment. He takes a breath and tells her, “I do want to… take you out sometime though, do something that has nothing to do with Rittenhouse.”

“I would like that very much.” She says, taking hold of his hand. Lucy slows her pace as they pass a record store window. She gazes in at the vinyl records and record players on display. “However… I wouldn’t mind taking a little side trip right now to sample some records…” She says, raising an eyebrow and curling her lips into a smile. She removes her arm from his and holds his hand, and drags him with her into the store.

A bell above the door rings when they enter the record store.

“Welcome to Rendezvous Records.” A clerk says from behind an island counter in the middle of the store. “Can I help you find anything today?”

“We’re just looking, thank you.” Lucy says with a smile as she makes her way over to a bin of records with a hop in her step.

Garcia looks around the store as Peggy Lee sings _Why Don’t You Do Right_ quietly from a record player behind the clerk’s counter.

 _You had plenty money 1922_  
_You let other women make a fool of you_  
_Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_  
_Get out of here and get me some money too?_

Covers of records and gossip magazines decorate the walls of the store: Edith Piaf, Vivien Leigh, Humphrey Bogart, Lou Costello, Clark Gable, Ingrid Bergman, Benny Goodman, Billie Holiday… Garcia smiles, recognizing all of the celebrities on the wall. He walks by a bin of records and trails his fingers across them. He thinks about how he might want to pickpocket some poor, unsuspecting passerby and stop by here on the way back to the time machine to buy himself a few pristine condition vintage records of his favorite recording artist from the 1940s, Duke Ellington. His eyes brighten as he picks up a record from the bin, the Glenn Miller Orchestra!

He glances back at Lucy wanting to share his excitement about holding a brand-new vinyl Glenn Miller Orchestra record in his hand. He stands behind her, looking down over her shoulder as she rummages through the records. She doesn’t know he’s there as she pulls out the exact same Glenn Miller Orchestra record, spins around, and steps forward, running right into him.

“Garcia, we have to come back here before we leave.”

He holds up the record in his hand and smiles. “Looks like we have the same taste in music.”

“This record has Moonlight Serenade on it.” She says, turning the record over to read the list of songs on the back. “Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to use it as my first dance with my husband at my wedding.” She looks up into Garcia’s eyes. “The instrumental version of it, of course. Not that I don’t like the lyrics, I do, but there’s something just so romantic about dancing with someone to old music without words.”

Garcia nods his head and all he can imagine is holding Lucy in his arms as their wedding band plays _Moonlight Serenade_ at their reception. It’s an outdoor reception, with white twinkling party lights above them. They’re the only two on the dance floor and as they dance, he leans down and sings the song into her ear.

“What?” She asks, clearly noting the smitten grin plastered on his face.

“Nothing.” He looks at her, already seeing his future with her.

Lucy turns around and places the record back where she found it. She feels him place his hands on her shoulders. She closes her eyes and smiles as her heart flutters at his touch. She imagines what it might feel like for him to take her in his arms and dance with her to _Moonlight Serenade_ at their wedding. He leans toward her and whispers into her ear:

“We should really be looking for Jiya and the others, Lucy.” He hates to say this because he truly enjoys seeing Lucy so excited about visiting this particular era in time – it’s one of his favorite eras too – but Rittenhouse has come here and they still don’t know why or where to find them.

“I know, I just…” Lucy glances over at the private listening booths. “Didn’t you grow up watching Back To The Future and wish you had a time traveling DeLorean that you could use to travel back so you could experience history for yourself, or go back and listen to old records in old listening booths in the forties?”

“Maybe after we do our job then we can stop by on our way back…” He gently squeezes her shoulders. “And we really should find a car to steal so we can get over to Paramount.”

Laughter erupts from the checkout counter. Garcia and Lucy look behind them and see the store clerk discussing an article in a gossip magazine with one of his store’s female patrons. They start to head toward the exit, Garcia offers his arm to Lucy, and she wraps her arm through his.

“I’ve heard it’s to be the biggest party of the year.” The clerk says.

“And the year’s just begun!” The female patron says, as she digs into her purse for coins to pay for her gossip magazine. “I think it’s a match made in heaven. Hedy Lamarr and Lucas Calhoun, a girl could only be so lucky.”

Lucy stops walking and looks up at Garcia, “Hold on,” she tells him, making her way over to the wall to pretend to rummage through other gossip magazines which are on display as she listens in on this conversation.

“Hedy and Lucas are by far my favorite couple since Vivien and Laurence Olivier. I have a feeling that they’re going to be together forever.”

“But to get married so soon after her divorce from Markey?” The clerk asks.

“Markey-schmarkey. He was a Fuddy-Duddy, at least with Calhoun, Hedy has married someone closer to her in age.” The woman argues.

Garcia watches Lucy as she pretends to flip through the gossip magazine, her eyes obviously on the store clerk and the woman.

“Lucy?”

“Hedy Lamarr never married anyone named Calhoun.” She puts the magazine back on the display rack and looks up at Garcia. “She’s supposed to be married to Gene Markey right now, and they’re supposed to divorce later this year. She actually uses her married name next year when she files her patent for frequency hopping, Hedy Kiesler Markey.” Lucy shakes her head. “I’ve never heard of Lucas Calhoun.”

The female patron walks by Lucy and Garcia and overhears her say this. She stops short, almost as if she’s insulted and exclaims:

“You’ve never heard of Lucas Calhoun?!” The woman doesn’t care that she’s interrupting their conversation. “He’s only the most successful producer RKO has had in years! Quite the looker too, if you ask me. He and Hedy have been together since, well, not very long, but long enough for their love to be true. I can’t wait to see what the papers say about their party tonight at the Beverly House.”

Lucy and Garcia share a look. Could this Lucas Calhoun be the Rittenhouse sleeper agent?

Lucy gives a polite smile to the woman and grabs Garcia’s arm and leads him out of the record store. He leans down to listen to her as she speaks in a hushed tone.

“You said that Jiya told you that Rittenhouse is sending agents into the past so that they are primed to act on orders to change history, right?” Lucy looks at him, he nods his head. “Hedy was never married to a Lucas Calhoun, so I think that we’ve identified the sleeper agent.”

Garcia stops Lucy as she isn’t looking where she’s going and almost steps out in front of traffic. A car horn blares at them. He politely waves in apology.

“I know that I wanted to try to find Jiya, Wyatt, and Rufus, but… I think taking care of Rittenhouse is more important than finding my friends. That can wait. Right now, we know that the sleeper is Calhoun and we know that he’s going to be at the party tonight at the Beverly House.”

“So, what you’re saying is that we need to find a change of clothing?”

Lucy nods her head. “We can steal better clothes and I don’t know… go back to the time machine and change, or sneak into a hotel to change or…” She trails off, glancing down the street alley. There are a few unattended cars for them to choose from to steal.

“Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about disabling the RH1955 device from any cars here.” She looks up at him as he too is looking at the parked cars. “Think you can hotwire one of these antiques?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Garcia walks ahead of Lucy as she turns around to make sure that they aren’t being followed. It’s not likely that Rittenhouse even knows that they’re here, but you can never be too careful. She catches up with Garcia.

“It makes sense.” She tells him.

“What does?” He asks as he goes from car to car jiggling handles until he finds one that isn’t locked. He sits down in the driver’s seat as Lucy goes around and gets in next to him.

“Rittenhouse sending a sleeper agent back to get in good with Hedy Lamarr. To marry her. Imagine what Rittenhouse could do if they use this marriage to recruit her.”

“With her innovative mind, they might not have to wait until Mason invents a time machine for them.” Garcia says as he meddles with the ignition.

“Exactly. And if they get Hedy to renew her patent, or pass it off to them, and… Garcia, the estimated value of her frequency hopping technology is around thirty-billion dollars. Rittenhouse could afford to build more than one time machine. Rittenhouse could be traveling through time within ten or twenty years from now, in the fifties or sixties, changing history and we wouldn’t be able to stop them.” Lucy leans back in her car seat and reaches for the seatbelt, then she remembers that cars didn’t have them in the forties. She continues. “The consequences of that happening could be catastrophic to the world as we know it, it would change our world in ways that we can’t predict.”

The engine starts and Garcia looks behind them and drives the car out of the alley. He licks his bottom lip and looks at Lucy and says, “We need to get to that party, and we need to find Calhoun so I can take him out.”

\-----

The sun has set over Hollywood and the stars sparkle in the sky above. Valets at the Beverly House stand outside tending to limousines as film producers, celebrities and other guests of Hedy Lamarr and Lucas Calhoun arrive at William Randolph Hearst’s mansion. An olive green with silver accents Rolls Royce 1938 Wraith pulls up, and a young valet dressed in a white tuxedo, opens the back-passenger door.

Garcia Flynn exits the car, he steps forward, leaning into the front passenger window, handing the driver a cash payment. He thanks him for bringing him and Lucy to the party.

Garcia’s hair is neatly styled and he’s dressed in a vintage 1940s black tuxedo, with a black bowtie, and has a burgundy handkerchief tucked into his jacket’s front pocket. He eyes the crowd around him, and checks that his gun is secure in the inner pocket of his jacket. He holds out his hand to the valet, stopping him from helping Lucy out of the car.

Garcia holds his hand out to Lucy and she places her fingers into the palm of his hand and exits the vehicle. She’s dressed in a sleeveless, side slit dress. Its burgundy color matches exactly to Garcia’s handkerchief. Her evening gown is floor-length and its slit runs five inches above Lucy’s knee. The plunging V-neck exposes her cleavage, supporting her with only thin straps which drape over her shoulders. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek low ponytail. Her makeup is simple, and keeping with the trends of the time, not painted on. Less is always better. She wears light brown eyeshadow to match her eyes, and pastel pink lipstick.

Garcia places his hand on the bare skin of her back and leads her away from the car and towards the stairs leading up to the mansion.

They make their way up the stairs, arm-in-arm. Crowds of people standing around mingling step aside to let them pass by. Garcia and Lucy are stunning together and conversations hush as they continue toward the mansion.

“Hot diggity dog, would you look at them!” A man exclaims as they pass.

Garcia smiles down at Lucy, knowing full well that the man isn’t looking at him. He leans down and whispers into her ear, “I told you that we would look like we belong. Now, aren’t you glad that I talked you into letting me steal from one of those haute couture shops?”

Lucy chuckles and leans into him, rolling her eyes as she thinks back to her arguing with him about wanting to steal such high-end clothes for tonight.

They enter the grand foyer of the mansion and look around in awe. A crystal chandelier hangs above them and the white marble floor shines under its light. They are approached by a butler who carries a book in his arm and a feathered fountain pen in his hand.

“Your names?” The butler asks.

Lucy looks to Garcia her eyes wide. They hadn’t come up with aliases yet.

“Lucy and Garcia Preston.” He answers.

The butler opens the book and checks a list of approved guests.

Lucy steps toward the man and places her hand on his arm.

“We won’t be on the list, sir. We just flew in from Paris and found out about this party by word of mouth.”

The butler looks at her, incredulous. He raises his brow.

“We’re friends of Joséphine Baker. Aspiring actors.” Garcia adds. “A husband and wife duet act, actually. We’ve opened for some of Joséphine’s shows in Paris.”

“James!” Hedy Lamarr approaches them, dressed in a gorgeous teal evening gown.

Lucy’s jaw drops as she watches Hedy approach the butler. She always knew she was a bombshell, but even more so in person. Lucy looks up at Garcia and sees that even he seems taken with her.

Hedy touches the butler’s arm and says, “Any friend of Josie’s is a friend of mine.” She flashes a smile at Garcia and nods her head to Lucy. The butler nods his head and leaves them be.

Hedy turns her attention to Lucy, “What did you say your names were?”

“Lucy and Garcia Preston.” Lucy answers, tickled that Garcia gave himself her surname and introduced them as husband and wife. Though… technically… because she forged a marriage certificate to him before visiting him in prison, they kind of are married in the eyes of the law in 2017, only… she took his last name: Lucy Flynn. She tilts her head to the side as she wonders whether or not this will be an issue with them if they ever do get married. She wants to take his last name, but does he want to take hers?

Garcia clears his throat and nudges Lucy to snap her back to the present.

“We just arrived from Paris.” Garcia tells Hedy.

“Just breaking into Hollywood, no doubt. You two are stunning together. I can already see the potential for you to be the next power couple in Hollywood.” Hedy steps back and takes in Lucy’s dress. “Darling, your dress is gorgeous, and you…” She turns to Garcia. “I’ve never seen a man so tall and as handsome as you.” Hedy extends her hand to Garcia, he takes it and she pulls him to her, kissing him once on the left cheek and once on the right cheek. She turns and does the same to Lucy.

“So, you just flew in from Paris. How is Joséphine? Last I heard she came down with a bad case of pneumonia. I do hope that she’s doing better.” Hedy says.

“Joséphine is recovering.” Lucy tells her. “She’s even been feeling well enough to do a few shows. She brought us in to open for her-”

“You two sing?” Hedy asks.

“We do.” Garcia says, nodding his head.

“We were hoping to meet some producers here at the party, perhaps your new husband, Lucas…” Lucy says as Hedy leads them into the mansion’s ballroom. “We aspire to be the next Fairbanks and Pickford.”

“That’s quite an ambition.” Hedy says, stopping to acknowledge William Hearst, the host of hers and Lucas Calhoun’s party. “Who here wants a song?!” Hedy shouts to the room, and is received with wild cheers.

Lucy looks to Garcia, her eyes wide. His lips are tight and he raises his brow as if to say _well, we got ourselves into this, we might actually have to sing a duet_. Hedy turns back to them with a smile on her face. She leads Lucy by the arm towards a small stage set up in the back of the room.

“The best piano player in town is here, his name is Buster.” Hedy is delighted.

Lucy looks back at Garcia who follows close behind her. His eyes scan the room, determining if there’s any threat for them to take the stage to perform a duet. She is only slightly panicked right now. She hasn’t sung in front of a crowd since before her car accident in 2003. She prays that Garcia takes the stage with her and doesn’t abandon her to watch. She’s heard him sing in the shower, she knows that he can somewhat carry a tune. But what song do they tell the pianist to play for them to sing? Lucy’s mind is drawing a blank.

Hedy lets go of Lucy’s arm and stands on the stage to introduce them.

“Excuse me, everyone. I’d like to introduce a talented new duo, Lucy and Garcia Preston. They’re fresh off the plane from Paris and come recommended by the incomparable, Joséphine Baker.”

The crowd applauds as Hedy looks down at Lucy and Garcia.

Lucy turns to face Garcia. She’s forcing a huge smile on her face, failing to hide her nerves. Garcia leans down to speak to her.

“I thought you said that you used to do this.” He says.

“I haven’t sung in public since the car accident.” She whispers back.

“We can do this, Lucy.” He says, touching her arm.

He steps up onto the stage and the crowd applauds. He looks down at Lucy and offers her his hand to help her up. She takes it and stands next to him. The butterflies in her stomach won’t stop and she feels like she’s going to be sick. She looks out at the crowd as more people enter into the ballroom to watch.

“So many people.” Lucy says, laughing to conceal her fear.

“What are we doing?” Buster asks as he takes his seat at the piano.

“Cheek To Cheek.” Garcia says, clearing his throat. He’s nervous. He’s never sung in public, but he’s not going to leave Lucy’s side for a few reasons. The first, they don’t know what Lucas Calhoun looks like and if he recognizes them, he could be a threat. Second, he’s here not only to find this sleeper agent, but to protect Lucy, and he is not leaving her side without knowing where Calhoun is. Third, he sees how nervous she is about singing in public and he is not going to abandon her to do this on her own. Garcia looks at Lucy, “You know Cheek To Cheek, don’t you?”

“Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.” Lucy nods her head and clears her throat.

Buster starts playing the opening notes of the famed song from the 1935 movie, _Top Hat_. In the movie, Astaire sings the song to Rogers as they dance, but Garcia thinks that it can easily be split up into a duet. He hopes their unspoken communication guides them to do this without too much of a hitch.

“Heaven… I’m in heaven…” Garcia sings, looking down at Lucy, placing a hand on her lower back and taking her hand in his to dance with her as he sings. “And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak… and I seem to find the happiness I seek… when we’re out together dancing, cheek to cheek.” Garcia nods at Lucy so she can take the next verse.

“Heaven…” Lucy’s voice waivers, but she continues on, feeling more confident in his arms, staring up into his eyes rather than into the crowd. “I’m in heaven… and the cares that hang around me through the week… seem to vanish like a gambler’s lucky streak… when we’re out together dancing, cheek to cheek.”

Garcia pulls Lucy into his body, pressing her firmly against him. He spins them around once and pulls back, allowing her to lean against the piano as he stands next to her. The crowd applauds and watches on, enthralled by their performance thus far.

Garcia sings again, “Oh! I love to climb a mountain. And to reach the highest peak. But it doesn’t thrill me half as much, as dancing cheek to cheek…” He takes Lucy back into his arms and leans down to press his cheek against hers. Then he pulls away to look at her again, “Oh! I love to go out fishing. In a river or a creek. But I don’t enjoy it half as much as dancing, cheek to cheek.”

He pulls her into him again and dances with her, then he twirls her away from him, still holding onto her hand as he presents her to the crowd, they applaud. “Dance with me!” He belts out. “I want my arm about you!” He steps toward her in a grand gesture and wraps his arm around her waist, pressing her chest against his. “The charm about you… will carry me through… to heaven…” He presses his cheek against Lucy’s again. His lips move against her skin as he sings.

Lucy closes her eyes and melts into him. Her heart is pounding in her chest. Never in a million years could she have predicted that this is how her first official mission with Garcia Flynn would go: being held in his strong arms as he dances with her, as she falls more in love with him, as he sings to her. And he is singing to her, and her alone, even though Hedy wants them to entertain her guests.

Garcia continues to sing to her since she’s so obviously lost in the little corner of the world that he’s carved out just for them in this moment. “I’m in heaven… and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak… and I seem to find the happiness I seek…”

He looks down and Lucy looks up into his eyes and finishes the song for him, “When we’re out together dancing, cheek to cheek…”

Lucy’s breath catches as he dips her to conclude their dance.

Garcia holds her securely in his arms as he holds her in the dip, smiling down at her. The room erupts in applause. Lucy laughs as he supports her back, lifting her up to stand next to him. He pulls Lucy into him, his hand holding her at her waist. She turns to him and goes up on her toes and kisses him on the cheek, having to reach up to wipe her pink lipstick from him.

Garcia twirls her out of his arms again and presents Lucy to the crowd. She giggles and curtsies to show her appreciation, then gestures to Garcia who actually did most of the singing for the both of them. The crowd is loud and they hear someone yell “Encore!” They share a look and laugh.

Wyatt Logan stands in the back of the room, unnoticed by both Garcia and Lucy.

He doesn’t know what to think of what he just witnessed. For starters, how in the hell are they here? If Flynn had managed to break into Rittenhouse headquarters and steal the Mothership, he knows he would have heard about it. He considers that maybe they just have doppelgangers in the 1940s, but hearing Lucy laugh on stage right now, he knows. It’s her. And it makes him sick that she seems to be enjoying herself with Flynn.

Wyatt lifts his glass of whiskey to his mouth and downs the rest of it angrily.

He’ll be damned if he’s not bringing Lucy back with him from this trip. All he needs to do is get her away from Flynn, talk to her and remind her that Flynn isn’t safe, and that she can come back with him to the bunker. After he gets her there, he has a decision to make. He can either do as Emma has asked of him and kill Lucy, or he could deliver Lucy back to Carol and Rittenhouse. With Lucy alive that means that the door is still open that the Table of Elders might reward him for her safe return, allow him to marry her so that he can be Rittenhouse royalty. Maybe even one day have a seat at the Table of Elders which is something that Emma would never give him even if she manages to take over the organization as she hopes to do.

He sets his empty whiskey glass down on the bar behind him, and looks back out at Lucy. He feels for his gun which he has tucked away inside his suit pocket. He eyes Flynn. If he could just get a little closer to them, he could shoot Flynn and grab Lucy right now. Rittenhouse would reward him for killing that bastard. But he’s not sure that he should take the shot here among the crowd. He’s not sure that he would be able to make a clean get away while grabbing Lucy.

Wyatt glances toward the stairs and wonders if Rufus and Jiya have figured out what Rittenhouse wants with William Hearst. Before Lucy and Flynn’s performance, they followed Hearst and Lucas Calhoun upstairs wanting to attempt to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Wyatt doesn’t really care if they figure it out. He already knows that Rittenhouse wanted to get a weekly column in the Hearst papers to spread their ideology to a public obsessed with the news media, especially having to do with their Hollywood stars.

Wyatt watches as Lucy and Flynn follow Hedy Lamarr, who is meeting up with her husband, Lucas. He is currently descending the stairs alongside Hearst. Wyatt watches as Hedy makes introductions, as Flynn shakes each man’s hand. Then the four of them leave Hearst to his party and head outside.

Wyatt quickly follows behind them, being careful not to be seen. He doesn’t care that he’s abandoning Rufus and Jiya at the party. His duty as an agent of Rittenhouse is much more important. Outside the mansion, he watches as Flynn holds Lucy’s hand, helping her into Hedy and Lucas’s limousine. The doors shut and they drive away. Wyatt runs down the stairs and hails a cab, ordering the driver to follow closely behind Hedy and Lucas, but to keep far enough distance where he won’t be noticed.

\-----

“Thank you so much for letting us stay with you.” Lucy tells Hedy as she sips on a tall glass of champagne in Hedy Lamarr and Lucas Calhoun’s living room.

“Any friends of Joséphine’s are friends of mine.” Hedy smiles and looks to her husband. “Oh, Lucas, do lighten up. I don’t know what’s gotten into you since we left the party. Aside from Lucy and Garcia’s wonderful rendition of Cheek To Cheek, it was a bore.”

Lucas takes a sip from his drink and eyes Garcia. He knows exactly who they are. Fifteen years ago, when he was dropped off on Mount Lee behind the Hollywoodland sign, he had heard all about Garcia Flynn and was glad that the son-of-a-bitch had been locked up in prison. He also knew about Princess Lucy and that her mother, Carol Preston, was hard at work trying to indoctrinate her into Rittenhouse. He knows them, but Lucy doesn’t know him. And he’s sure that this Flynn has him figured out as the man has been burning a hole in him ever since they got in the limousine and drove here.

Lucas looks to his wife and responds to her, “Sorry, dear. I’m not exactly feeling very well. Must have been something I ate at the party.” He offers as an excuse as he takes another sip of his drink, not taking his eyes off of Garcia.

Garcia stands in a protective stance next to Lucy. He holds his glass of champagne in his hand, but refuses to drink while on the job. Too much is at stake and he wants to be focused and with a clear mind. Ever since he and Lucy got into Hedy and Lucas’s limousine, he and Calhoun have been exchanging knowing glances. Both of them know that once they can excuse themselves from the ladies, that there will be a fight to the death, and Garcia has every intention to win that fight.

Hedy stands up and looks to Lucy, “Lucy, how would you like to see my invention room? In the car you seemed to have an interest in my work, and nothing would please me more than showing you what George and I are working on.”

Lucy looks at Garcia, she knows what is going to happen when he’s left alone with Calhoun and though she trusts Garcia to get the job done, she’s also afraid. She’s afraid that he’s going to get hurt. Afraid that he could get killed.

Garcia nods his head at Lucy and takes her glass of champagne and sets it down on the table. He leans down and presses his cheek against hers, “I’m going to take care of him outside the house. I’ll come find you when I’m done.” He kisses her cheek and caresses her jaw with his thumb. He looks into her eyes and to ‘keep up appearances,’ he tells her, meaning every single one of these three words, “I love you.”

“Lovebirds.” Hedy says with a sigh. “Come on now, Lucy…” Hedy wraps her arm around Lucy’s waist and leads her out of the room. “Did you know torpedoes are radio guided? George and I found a way to change the signal, making it harder for enemies to detect or jam the signal.”

“No,” Lucy shakes her head and takes one last look at Garcia behind her shoulder. “I… I didn’t know that.”

Hedy opens the door to her invention room and Lucy’s eyes brighten with excitement. She steps in, completely in awe of what she sees. She doesn’t know much about science, but she knows enough to understand that she’s standing in the room where history was made. This is the room where Hedy and George Antheil invented frequency hopping, the science behind modern day Wi-Fi. Lucy walks toward the desk that is situated in front of a window next to a bookcase. She touches its wooden surface and turns around, her mouth agape.

“The brains of people are more interesting than the looks, no?” Hedy says with a smile. She’s as fascinated with Lucy as Lucy is with her.

“This is… amazing.” Lucy says, shaking her head in disbelief of where she’s standing.

“Inventions are easy for me to do, Lucy. Even when I was five years old, I was taking apart old music boxes, studying how they worked on the inside, and then putting them back together again.” Hedy steps toward Lucy. “I’ve always associated my inventions with my father. We would take walks when I was a child, in Vienna, and he would point things out to me, explain to me how it was that they worked.” She smiles. “He passed away six years ago. I adored him so.”

Lucy nods her head. “I lost my father when I was only fifteen years old. I loved him so much.”

“My father always told me… be yourself, choose and take what you want in life, and I try to live by that every day.” She pauses. “It’s probably why I have two failed marriages. I like male companionship, but so many of them bore me. But my father…” Hedy shakes her head remembering the man she loved most in this world.

“My father…” Lucy smiles, “even my sister, encouraged me to do the same. Amy once told me to make my own future. And…” Lucy sighs. “Her words… she had no way of knowing how important her advice would be for me.”

“How do you mean?” Hedy asks.

“I used to be a history professor at a university. I taught in a department that my mother built. She raised me to walk in her footsteps, to emulate her and her life. I was so… I did everything she ever asked of me, pushing away things that I wanted to do with my life just to please her.” Lucy sits on the edge of the desk and looks at the ground. “Anyway, one day something happened and my world got turned upside down, became unrecognizable, and I lost my teaching job, and I… lost my sister.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your sister. That must be hard.” Hedy touches Lucy on her shoulder. “And your job… men are often intimidated by a pretty face.” Hedy says as she touches Lucy’s cheek. “With men, you never know if they love you for who you are, or if they love their fantasy of you. I imagine you found out that’s why you lost your teaching job? Because men couldn’t see beyond your beauty, to see you for your worth?”

“It’s more complicated than that, but… yes.” Lucy reflects on how Jonas Lyger informed her that her tenure meeting had been cancelled the night she was brought to Mason Industries to embark on her first time traveling adventure. “And I lost Amy around the same time that I lost my job, and ever since then I’ve struggled living with my new reality.”

“But your Garcia… he’s different?” Hedy asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Most men do not try to find out what is inside. They do not try to scratch the surface of women. If they did… they might find something much more beautiful than the shape of a nose, or color of an eye.” Hedy smiles. “I know that’s why Lucas loves me. He only sees what’s outside, not inside. He pretends to be interested in my inventions, but your Garcia… he looks at you when you speak and he listens, he respects what you say, and he is proud of your mind. I can see this. You’d be a fool not to.”

“I… I don’t know what to say to that.” Lucy says, distracted by the fact that Hedy Lamarr is analyzing her relationship with Garcia.

“Is it cerebral between you two?” Hedy asks.

“Yes, I mean… of course it is.” Lucy answers.

“Is he a good lover?”

Lucy blushes and though she and Garcia haven’t yet made love, she lies to keep their cover as a husband and wife singing duo, “yes, it’s… he’s gentle and responsive to my needs and desires… passionate and intense…” Lucy falls back on her own fantasies about how it might be like to make love to Garcia Flynn.

“Good.” Hedy says with authority. “I once dated Howard Hughes and he was the worst lover I ever had, but I didn’t mind it because we had such a strong cerebral connection. That’s what’s most important.” She smiles. “But between you and me… despite my two failed marriages and my marriage now to Lucas… my greatest love was my father, Emil.”

Hedy takes Lucy’s hands into hers and looks down where she expects to see a wedding ring on her finger.

“I see you don’t wear a ring so I assume that you and Garcia pass yourselves off as married for your act, but Lucy... I also noticed that he wears a ring so perhaps you two should discuss how not to emulate too much Fairbanks and Pickford. Yes, they became America’s sweethearts, but they were both married to other people when they met and fell in love.”

Lucy doesn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected Garcia to introduce them as a married couple, nor did she expect him to so publicly display his affection to her as he sang to her, and danced with her, on stage at the Beverly House.

“You love him?” Hedy asks.

Lucy nods her head, but refrains from saying the words aloud. This fact is becoming more difficult to ignore.

“Lucy… make sure to find a husband who knows how to love you, not someone who expects you to be someone you’re not. Your Garcia might treat you right and respect you, but if he’s a married man…”

Lucy shakes her head and looks into Hedy’s eyes. “This thing with Garcia and me isn’t what it… it isn’t what you think it is.”

“Oh?”

“A few years ago, his wife and daughter were murdered. He’s a widower. He wears his ring because it’s the only thing he has left in this world to remind him of his girls.”

“I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry for my false assumption. Do forgive me.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Lucy smiles. “I know he loves me. He not only tells me, but he shows me. Every day that I’ve been with him he finds a way to let me know how much he cares.” Lucy looks down, suddenly struck with sadness.

“What is it, dear?” Hedy asks, running her hand over Lucy’s head.

“I’ve pushed him away. Told him that we need to take it slow. He told me that it hurt his feelings when I insisted that’s what we do, and I know he doesn’t want me to feel bad about that, but the truth is that I do.”

“Is that really what you want? To hold back?”

Lucy shakes her head, “No… I spent one night without him by my side and… I missed him so much.”

“Then you need to be honest with him. Tell him how you feel. Men are stupid, Lucy. They aren’t mind-readers no matter how much we wish they were.”

Hedy walks across the room and brings a box of tissues over to Lucy. “Here, we don’t want your makeup to smear.” Lucy takes a tissue and dabs her eyes. To lighten the mood, Hedy adds, “That should be my next big invention… mascara that doesn’t run when we cry.”

Lucy laughs and looks at Hedy, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Not to change the subject, but… to change the subject… your patent for frequency hopping…” Lucy begins.

“We plan to apply for it soon.” Hedy says, curious as to why Lucy is bringing this up.

“Please, don’t ask how I know, just know that I do, but… the Navy won’t use it until about 1962 and… I just… whatever you do, don’t let the patent expire.” Lucy tells her, knowing that if Hedy heeds her warning that she might have just changed history.

\-----

Before retiring for the night, Hedy showed Lucy to the guest house that she and Garcia were invited to stay in overnight since they had told Hedy they hadn’t yet found a hotel. Just outside of the guest house was a pool. Lucy would love to take a swim, just to help her relax but the water temperature is much too cold. Winters in California can be mild, but the water temperatures are another story.

Lucy stands next to the side of the pool. She kicks off her dress shoes and stares up into the night sky.

She runs her hands up and down her arms in a failed attempt to keep warm. Garcia stole this gorgeous burgundy evening gown for her, and she’s glad that he did because she’ll get to take it back home with her to 2017, and who knows. Maybe when all of this is over, she’ll be able to wear the dress again on a night out with Garcia. The thought of the two of them actually going on a date brings a smile to her face, even more so knowing that Garcia has been giving thought to taking her out.

She laughs at herself, _so much for cooling off, Lucy._

She wonders where he is right now.

She refuses to believe that Lucas Calhoun would be able to take him down, so she knows it’s only a matter of time before Garcia finds her again. And then she feels two warm hands on her shoulders.

She closes her eyes and sighs, leaning her back against him.

He’s found her.

“I was just thinking of you…” She says as she feels his lips on her neck. A surprising move from Garcia considering earlier he seemed to respect her ‘cooling off’ wishes. But she doesn’t mind now. She tilts her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck. Her heart races as his lips gently kiss her skin, his warm hands massaging her bare shoulders. She closes her eyes and thinks back on her conversation with Hedy, how she doesn’t really want to slow things down between her and Garcia. Not just because she can’t stand the idea of spending another night without him at her side, but… she opens her eyes and wrinkles her brow. She really doesn’t think that Garcia would be so bold as to kiss her like this. He’s too much a gentleman for that.

Sure, he told her that it hurt him that she wants to cool things off, but he seemed to respect her decision. Not that she minds him kissing her, in fact, she knows that him kissing her is exactly what she wants especially after the way he held her in his arms and danced with her, and sang to her on stage, but… she inhales and smells whiskey.

_Has he been drinking?_

Lucy slowly turns around and looks up. And standing in front of her, just barely looking down into her eyes is Wyatt Logan.

“Wyatt?!” Lucy exclaims, her mouth opens wide. “Oh my God, Wyatt!”

She ignores the fact that Wyatt was kissing her neck and massaging her arms without her consent, making her believe that he was Garcia (though he couldn’t have known that was who she was thinking of). She flings herself at him and wraps her arms around him. Without thinking, she plants a big kiss right on his mouth, pulls away and laughs. She runs her hand through his hair and caresses his face. She can’t believe that he’s really here. That he’s alive.

“It’s good to see you too, ma’am.” Wyatt throws her one of his cocky smiles.

“How did you know where to find me?” Lucy asks him, removing her hands from around his neck and stepping backward. Wyatt has to reach out and hold her arm so she doesn’t step too far and fall into the pool.

“I’m here with Rufus and Jiya, they’re taking care of the Hearst thing, and… I… I saw you singing on stage with _Flynn_.” Wyatt says Garcia’s name with a sneer. “Look, I can get you away from him. I can take you back home in the Lifeboat. We’ll just have Rufus take you and I back first, and then he can come back in a few hours and pick up Jiya.”

Lucy looks around for Jiya and Rufus, but she doesn’t see them.

“Where are they?” She asks.

“Like I said… they’re taking care of the Hearst thing.”

“What Hearst thing?” Lucy asks.

“I’m not clear on the specifics, but something to do with bribing him to get a column in his papers.” Wyatt tells her, not wanting her to actually know why Rittenhouse is bribing Hearst. “Rufus and Jiya figured it out, something to do with an old movie.” Wyatt steps toward Lucy, placing his hand on her waist. “What are you doing here with Flynn?”

Lucy looks behind Wyatt, hoping to see Rufus and Jiya. She looks at Wyatt, “Garcia and I are here because we found out the sleeper agent actually married Hedy Lamarr-”

“Who?”

Lucy shakes her head. She can’t be bothered to explain it to him. “That doesn’t matter anymore, Garcia is taking care of it.” She smiles up at Wyatt. Maybe now he might finally understand that Garcia is on the right side of history. “Garcia and I are here to help. If we can find him, and then find Rufus and Jiya… if Rittenhouse has two targets here, we have to make sure that-”

“I’m sure they got it covered.” Wyatt lowers his voice in an attempt to make things more intimate between Lucy and him. After all she is his coveted Rittenhouse princess, what he needs in order to secure power in Rittenhouse.

“We can help, Garcia and I.” Lucy tells him.

Wyatt tightens his jaw, hating that Lucy just referred to herself and Flynn as a “we.” He needs to move this along, turn on his charm to get her to leave Flynn and come back to the bunker with him. If he can get Lucy back to Carol and the Table of Elders, that very well could give him the promotion he wants. Fuck Emma and her quest to take down pure blood royal families. He needs to get Lucy to come back with him, to fall in love with him, to leave Garcia Flynn. She is his ticket to Rittenhouse royalty through her bloodline.

He wraps his arm around Lucy’s waist and draws her into his body, and she lets him. He smiles as he touches the side of her face and looks deep into her eyes.

“God… I missed you so much, Lucy.” He tells her, lowering his voice. “I thought you were dead and I… I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to break out of the bunker and find you, and now that I have…”

“Wyatt…” She whispers his name and hesitantly steps closer to him.

She knows.

Her heart is aching as much as it is pounding in her chest.

She knows.

Goddammit, she knows that she’s in love with Garcia.

She knows she shouldn’t but…

… but with Wyatt… before she thought he died in the explosion at Mason Industries… she truly believed that every possibility they once spoke of meant that they were supposed to be together. And she’s written in her journal that she no longer believes her feelings for Wyatt were really love, but… she needs to know for sure. She needs to know how she feels for him now that he’s here, right in front of her, alive. Just like she told Garcia she wanted for them to cool off, so she could sort out her feelings… Lucy takes in a breath and steps even closer to Wyatt, gazing at his lips.

She shouldn’t.

What would Garcia think of her after everything that has happened between them?

She shouldn’t kiss Wyatt, but…

She needs to know.

She needs to know for sure.

She feels her heart breaking and her eyes fill with tears as Wyatt brings his fingers to rest below her chin. Her heart is pounding, aching and she knows. Goddammit, she knows how she feels, but she just needs to kiss him once. She needs to kiss him once just to make sure that what she is feeling for Garcia is real. She needs to know where she stands with Wyatt before she can make the commitment to Garcia Flynn.

Wyatt tilts her head up and rubs his nose against hers.

Lucy closes her eyes in anticipation. She trembles when she feels his breath against her lips.

Before Rittenhouse kidnapped her, before she helped break Garcia out of prison, Wyatt was everything she thought she wanted. She cries out as she opens her mouth to him and allows him to kiss her.

It hurts.

It breaks her heart that she is doing this to Garcia.

He doesn’t deserve this and she prays he never finds out.

Lucy wraps her arms around Wyatt’s neck and presses her chest against his. She kisses him now so that he doesn’t pull back and ask why she’s crying. She doesn’t want to talk to Wyatt about her feelings for Garcia. His tongue slides into her mouth and he moans her name as his fingers trail gently down her exposed back. Her knees feel weak and she’s overwhelmed with guilt.

She knows.

\-----

Garcia makes his way out of the field just outside Hedy and Calhoun’s mansion.

His hair is a mess, and he wipes the sleeve of his tuxedo coat to wipe blood from his lip. His job here is done. He took care of the Rittenhouse sleeper agent. Calhoun put up a good fight, even managed to knock Garcia’s gun from his hand for a time. They fought, threw punches at one another, but in the end, Garcia retrieved his weapon and shot the son-of-a-bitch between the eyes.

Right now, all he wants to do is get back to Lucy.

Hedy had mentioned to them earlier that they could stay overnight at her poolside guest house, and he supposes that’s where he’ll find Lucy. And now that their job here is done, he thinks it will be nice to have her fuss over his split lip as he tells her that he’s ok. He smiles to himself. As much as he loves taking care of her, he adores it when she takes care of him.

There are other things on his mind that he wants to talk to her about as well. He wants to bring back up the conversation they had last night about what he would do if one day Lorena and Iris were alive again. He told Lucy that he would choose her, but wouldn’t want to walk out of his girls’ lives forever. Lucy kissed him on his forehead after he told her that she wants her in his life, that he hopes she would be friends with Lorena.

He smiles to himself. Despite his fight with Calhoun, this mission has meant so much to him. Despite her cooling off rule, Lucy has been very responsive to his romantic gestures. She even seems excited about the prospect of him taking her out on a date. And by God, he plans on taking her back to that record store in the morning before they go home. He wants to sit with her in a listening booth and listen to _Moonlight Serenade_ with her. He imagines she might rest her head against his shoulder. He wants to make time to go back to 1905 and take her to see Anna Pavlova’s first performance of _The Dying Swan_. He wants to take her out to his favorite restaurants in Houston, go see the symphony, or an opera.

When he held her in his arms and sang to her on stage… he saw in her eyes that whatever feelings she has for him are growing into love, if they weren’t love already. He understands that she needs time and he’ll give her as much time as she needs to sort things out for herself, but… he smiles and chuckles to himself as he thinks of her. How one day they’ll talk about last night and how both of them were fools standing on each side of his bedroom door, too afraid to knock or to open it. Too afraid to acknowledge the feelings they have for each other.

Garcia runs his hand through his hair to try to straighten it out.

He knows.

He knows that she must love him.

But knowing this doesn’t make him any less nervous about what he wants to tell her tonight.

After he stole high-end evening wear for them… they went back to the time machine to change and… with his back to her, as she finished changing into her burgundy gown, he asked her if it bothered her that he wore his wedding ring. She was quiet for a beat and then reminded him that she was the one who got it for him during their prison visit. That she wanted him to have it because she understood how much it means to him. That she understood that it’s all he had left to remember his girls.

He told her that wasn’t true anymore. That his mother had framed photos and photo albums of their life together. Photo albums that he wants to share with Lucy when they get back home. He held his breath and hesitated before telling her that he wouldn’t mind taking the ring off if it did bother her. He kept his back to her since she was getting dressed, and then felt her hand on his back as she told him that it doesn’t bother her that he wears it, and that she wants him to wear it for as long as he needs.

With his heart pounding in his chest, he had asked if she was dressed and then he turned around to face her as she brushed her hands over his tuxedo to straighten it. He told her that he meant what he said at the prison. That one day, he would like for her to wear his ring around her neck, alongside her locket. To keep his girls close to her heart for him. Lucy had fallen quiet and lowered her head, perhaps feeling guilty, as if she was replacing his love for Lorena.

He lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes.

He wanted her to see that he was serious.

That she is who he wants to spend his life with.  

Lucy didn’t say anything as she blinked away tears and touched his arm affectionately.

She understood.

He had kissed her hand before opening the hatch of the time machine.

He got out and turned to Lucy and placed his hands on her waist and lifted her off her feet, her hands on his shoulders as he spun her around. He set her down on the ground and she laughed.

It was music to his ears.

Garcia stops dead in his tracks when he comes around the corner of the poolside guest house and sees Lucy and Wyatt locked in a kiss. His heart skips a beat and all the blood drains from his face as he watches Wyatt slide his hand up to hold Lucy’s breast. She lets out a whimper as Wyatt massages her, pressing his mouth hard against hers, using his thumb to lower the strap of her dress from her shoulder.

Garcia clenches his jaw and stops himself from clearing his throat to interrupt them.

It hurts.

It fucking hurts.

Now all he feels is doubt.

Maybe he was imagining things between him and Lucy.

Maybe everything that happened with them on this mission was an exaggeration of hope in his head.

Maybe he should have held on longer to his gut feeling that Lucy’s lingering feelings for Wyatt were the reason why she told him that she wanted to slow things down.

He stands there like a stupid fool, desperate to get his heart stomped on, watching them kiss.

How could he have been so wrong?

He’s usually really good at reading people. He shakes his head in disbelief. Sure, Lucy may have feelings for him, she wrote in their journal that she does. And her written word, and even her actions, had convinced him that no matter what that she would choose him. But… he glances back over at the two of them and his heart sinks. Apparently, Wyatt is alive and it’s obvious that Lucy has made her choice.

Garcia lowers his head and shoves his hand into his pocket.

He retrieves the thing that he wanted to talk to Lucy about tonight.

What he wanted to give her.

He takes out his wedding ring and holds it in his hand.

After he took care of Lucas Calhoun, he decided to take advantage of this beautiful night and walk slowly back to Hedy’s home. He wanted time to himself to think, to reflect on last night and tonight. Dancing with Lucy on stage earlier this evening had really done a number on his heart, and he felt even more in love with her now than he did only yesterday. He ran his finger over his wedding ring and felt guilty for loving her while continuing to wear his ring.

He doesn’t want to feel guilty for loving her anymore.

He decided that after last night, after making up after their fight, after watching a movie with her, rubbing her feet, covering her with the blanket Lorena made, after reading her journal entry… dancing and singing to her on stage… seeing the sparkle in her eye as he continued to show her that he cares and that he loves her so very much…

He decided not even ten minutes ago, that it is time.

It is time to remove his wedding ring.

To commit himself to Lucy.

With a pang in his heart that signified his goodbye to Lorena, he had removed his ring and put it in his pant’s pocket.

He had made his way up the hill toward the mansion with every intention to tell Lucy about his decision and ask her to wear it around her neck. To tell her that she needn’t make a decision about her feelings for him until she was ready, but that he just wants her to know that he has given himself to her. A grand gesture that he knows couldn’t be interpreted any other way than _I want to spend the rest of my life with you._

But now…

His heart sinks as he glances at Lucy and Wyatt. He watches as Wyatt presses Lucy up against the wall of the guest house, his hand now covering Lucy’s exposed breast as he kisses her. And it appears that Lucy is kissing him back. She raises her hand and places it on Wyatt’s arm, crying out to him again. Garcia hears her say his name, “Wyatt.”

But now…

Garcia looks away and shakes his head. He makes the painful decision to not interrupt them. Lucy did tell him that when she was with Rittenhouse that she had wanted Wyatt. She needed him, wanted to let him know that she loved him. How she wanted Wyatt to save her. And… how she wanted to lose herself in his kisses, and find comfort in his bed.

Garcia steps behind the other side of the guest house and leans against the wall. He exhales, not realizing he had been holding his breath. His hand shakes as he looks down at his wedding ring in the palm of his hand. He holds it up and reads the inscription: Garcia & Lorena & Iris.

With an unsteady hand, he places the ring back on his finger and sighs, hanging his head low.

He lost her.

He lost Lucy.

And his fucking heart is breaking.

But he isn’t going to make this difficult for her. She’s already been through so much that she doesn’t need him stepping over the boundary that she set. The last thing she needs right now is him fighting for her heart. She doesn’t need him fighting Wyatt for her affection.

“Flynn?!” He hears Wyatt exclaim his name, and then loudly ask, “What… have you fucked him?”

Wyatt sounds angry.

Garcia is surprised _that_ topic has been breached considering just a moment ago Lucy and Wyatt were lip-locked and looking to go do some fucking of their own.

“No,” Lucy cries as Garcia rounds the corner and approaches them. “Of course, I didn’t fuck him, I…”

“But you want to?” Wyatt accuses her, looking behind Lucy at Garcia.

Lucy doesn’t know Garcia is there. She’s too focused on Wyatt, and trying to keep him calm.

“I… I don’t know, Wyatt.” Her answer is actually ‘yes,’ but he doesn’t need to know that. She steps toward him, not wanting to fight with him about Garcia. “It’s complicated between Garcia and me.”

Wyatt shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. “And you’re really choosing to stay here with a terrorist rather than go back home with me?”

Wyatt is making her feel guilty as shit.

Wyatt hopes he guilts her into changing her mind.

“Lucy?” Garcia says quietly, not meaning for his voice to break.

She spins around, tears streaming down her face. She looks at him and shakes her head.

She doesn’t know what to do.

She looks into Garcia’s eyes. “He wants me to go back with him, to be with the team, but I…”

Then Wyatt steps toward Lucy and quickly draws his gun and aims it at Garcia. Wyatt grabs onto Lucy’s arm hard, and pushes her behind him as if he’s protecting her from Garcia Flynn.

“Wyatt!” Lucy cries out, her eyes never leaving Garcia.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you.” Wyatt says to Garcia, his finger on his weapon’s trigger.

Garcia looks at Lucy, his eyes soft, wanting to know if he should just let this go. If he should just walk away and let her go back with Wyatt. She shakes her head, her eyes pleading for him to stay. To not leave her alone with Wyatt. He gives her the slightest nod that goes unnoticed by Wyatt, letting her know that he’s not going anywhere.

“You’re not going to shoot me, Wyatt, because I’m putting my weapon away.” Garcia raises both his arms in the air and slowly places his gun back inside the inner pocket of his coat.

Wyatt smirks and cocks back the hammer of his gun, keeping a steady aim on Garcia.

“Wyatt…” Lucy says his name, touching him carefully on the shoulder. “Please, don’t. He’s on our side.”

Wyatt ignores Lucy and keeps his gun fixed on Garcia.

“Lucy’s coming with me, Flynn. You try to stop me… I shoot you dead.” Wyatt tells him.

“Like all those other times where you were ordered to kill me? I’m sorry to say, but… I don’t really believe that you can make the shot.” Garcia says seriously, knowing that this ‘Delta Force’ soldier has never been able to get the best of him before.

Wyatt sneers at Garcia, “I’m less than six feet away from you, of course I can make-”

Lucy walks around Wyatt and stands between the two men, putting herself directly in front of Wyatt’s gun. If he’s going to shoot at Garcia, he’s going to have to shoot at her too. And even with Lucy standing there in front of his weapon, he still doesn’t lower it. He even keeps his finger on the trigger. Lucy’s back is to Garcia and she looks at Wyatt, fear in her eyes. She’s tried to stand up to Wyatt before and it rarely went well. He always tends to get his way, but not tonight. Since she’s been away from him and the rest of the team, since she’s been through torture with Rittenhouse, since she’s been with Garcia… she’s slowly building up her confidence to take a stand against what she doesn’t want.

And she does not want to go back with Wyatt.

Her voice is firm as she tells him, “I’m staying with Garcia.”

Garcia swallows hard. He wasn’t expecting her to say that. Maybe he was wrong to assume that just because he saw Lucy kissing Wyatt, that she wants to be with him. Once he can get her alone, he’ll wait to see if she’ll tell him what happened. She doesn’t know that he saw her kissing Wyatt. If she tells him, perhaps it means that the kiss meant nothing to her. However, if she keeps it from him… no, he doesn’t want to think about that, not right now.

“Lucy…” Wyatt objects to her statement.

“I make my own decisions, Wyatt. I’m working with Garcia now. Jiya was able to call me. I want to help, I will help, but…” Lucy glances back at Garcia. His eyes are burning a hole in Wyatt, and his arms are held out at his side, ready to grab her out of harm’s way if this gets ugly. Even with Wyatt’s gun fixed on her, Garcia makes her feel safe and protected. She faces Wyatt again. “It’s safer for me with Garcia instead of with the team.”

“He’s a terrorist, Lucy.” Wyatt argues.

“No. He’s not, Wyatt, and I wish that you could see him for the man he is.” Lucy says. “Garcia is a good man. He wants to destroy Rittenhouse, just like we all do.”

“So, you really are choosing Garcia Flynn over me?” Wyatt asks, fixing his aim over Lucy’s shoulder, at Garcia. He’s decided that he’s going to kill Garcia before he abandons Lucy here. That’s what she deserves after rejecting him. To be stuck in the past, unable to get back to 2017. There’s no way that she’s smart enough to know how to pilot whatever time machine they used to get here.

“Yes.” She answers.

“You side with him, Lucy, then you’re against me.” Wyatt says as he pulls the trigger of his gun.

Lucy feels the bullet buzz by her ear just as she feels Garcia’s arm around her, lifting her off the ground and behind him. He places his body between her and Wyatt’s gun. He hunches over her, his hands pressed firm to her stomach, to protect her from any other shots that Wyatt might take at them. They hear Wyatt running away and Garcia turns around, retrieves his gun and aims it at Wyatt. He doesn’t shoot, but he’s willing to exchange fire if Wyatt dares to shoot at Lucy again.

 _What the fuck is wrong with that boy?_ He thinks to himself.

Garcia holds steady, his arm outstretched, and his finger on the trigger as Lucy comes around his body to face him. Her hands running all over his torso, checking to see if he’s been shot. Her fingers caress his split lip, wiping dried blood from his mouth with her thumb. Garcia keeps his eye on Wyatt until he disappears from view. He lowers his arm and puts the gun back inside his coat. He runs his hand through her hair to assure himself that she’s still here with him.

“Garcia…” Her voice is soft, hurt to see that he acquired more cuts and bruises from his fight with Calhoun.

“Lucy… are you ok?” He asks, leaning down to look her in the eyes.

She nods her head, and averts her eyes, unable to look him now. This is all her fault. She pulls down the shoulder of his coat and checks to make sure that he didn’t get shot in the arm or shoulder.

“Lucy… hey.” He takes hold of her hand to stop her from examining him. “Are you hurt?”

“No… I don’t… I don’t think so.” Her eyes remain low as she fights the urge to cry.

She feels guilty for having kissed Wyatt. She is so fucking thankful that Wyatt asked her if she and Garcia had ever… fucked. If he hadn’t, then… who knows what Wyatt might have been able to scare or guilt her into doing.

She looks up at Garcia and opens her mouth to apologize to him for Wyatt threatening to shoot him, but he speaks first.

“You might want to…” He gestures to the shoulder strap of her dress which has slipped down her arm, threatening to expose her breast. He’d adjust the strap for her if he didn’t feel like maybe he needs to take a step back and reevaluate their relationship. After all, Lucy had been kissing Wyatt.

Lucy’s face goes red.

She couldn’t stop Wyatt from lowering the shoulder strap of her dress. Everything had been moving so quickly and before she knew it, she was pressed against the wall and his thumb was rolling over her nipple. _You were so stupid, Lucy. So stupid! You should have tried to stop him!_ She averts her eyes away from Garcia again and adjusts her dress. She’s embarrassed and honestly, she just wants to forget her little encounter with Wyatt ever happened. She’s thankful that Garcia didn’t see her kissing Wyatt. She can just go on pretending that it never happened. _It shouldn’t have happened. What the hell were you thinking, Lucy? Imagine if Garcia had seen you kissing Wyatt. Imagine how much that would break his heart._ She shakes her head at herself. Maybe later she might tell him, but definitely not now, not after how well things have been going between them on this mission.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Garcia?” She asks, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulls away.

“I’m ok.” He forces a smile. “Did you get to see Jiya or Rufus?” He asks, knowing the answer, but he doesn’t want her to know that he saw her kissing Wyatt.

“No. I didn’t.”

“That’s too bad, Lucy.” He wets his lips. “I hope Jiya can call you later so you two can…” He waves his hand in the air, “… catch up.”

Lucy steps back and looks at him. This conversation feels awkward, not like them at all.

His voice sounds different.

Something has changed.

She watches him.

He stands with his arms crossed and his fists clenched. She shakes her head and goes to him, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. She expects him to wrap his arms around her too, but he doesn’t. She pulls away from him and wants to run her hand down his arm, but he’s not giving her any sign that he wants her to touch him.

“Hedy said we can stay the night in the guest house.” She whispers, feeling guilty about what happened.

“I know,” he says coolly.

Garcia looks down at Lucy and his heart aches. He can’t shake the image of Lucy and Wyatt pressed up against the wall of this guest house, completely taken with one another. Lucy, not giving a single thought to feelings she claims to have for him, Garcia Flynn. He narrows his eyes and looks at her. He knows that it is late, and that they don’t have a car to drive back up Mount Lee to his mother’s time machine.

“Hey…” Lucy says, placing her hand on his jaw, running her thumb over his stubble. “I’m with you, Garcia. Quite the team, right?”

“Sure.”

Lucy nods her head, not believing that he thinks she’s being honest with him. She offers her arm to him. He looks at her and with some hesitation, loops his arm through hers. She leads him back toward the pool where she left her shoes.

“Tomorrow…  before we leave…” She bends down and picks up her shoes. “Did you still want to stop by that record store and-” Lucy flails her arms in the air and yelps as she missteps and loses her balance. She grabs onto Garcia’s sleeve and they both splash into the freezing cold pool.

Garcia’s head is above water before Lucy’s, and when she surfaces, she’s laughing.

“Oh my God! It’s so cold!” She exclaims. She looks at Garcia with a huge smile on her face which disappears when she sees that he doesn’t seem at all humored by their current situation.

Lucy shakes her head and wades through the water toward him.

“What is wrong with you?” She asks, getting frustrated with him.

“Nothing.”

“Did you see me with Wyatt?”

“And if I did?”

Lucy closes her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh.

Fuck.

“It’s none of my business, Lucy.” He says without emotion. “If you want to go back to 2017 with him, by all means I’ll help you out of this damn pool so you can chase after him.” He can no longer conceal his hurt feelings from her.

Garcia wades through the water and starts to lift himself out of the pool.

“Garcia!” She shouts at him, tugging on the back of his coat to pull him back into the water with her. “Please, don’t do this! Not after everything… not after last night, not after earlier this evening. How can I get it through your thick skull that-”

“That what? That you want to be with me?”

“Yes,” she says as if that was ever in question.

“Because I’m not buying it, Lucy. You write these things in our journal, saying that you want to know everything about me, you curl up on the couch and let me rub your feet, you let me talk to you about my girls… you seem to accept that one day I want to give you my ring, which you damn well understand means more than just some casual fling or relationship… and for what?” He steps closer to her, so close that he towers over her. A move meant to intimidate, but it doesn’t intimidate her. “So that I can stand by and watch as you kiss Wyatt when you won’t let me express my own feelings for you?” He shakes his head. “I can’t keep doing this, Lucy. The ups and downs with you.” He waves his hand in the air as if to brush her off as romantically insignificant to him now.

Lucy’s heart breaks and a tear streams down her face.

“Garcia…” Her voice cracks. “I… I love-”

He spins around and points his finger at her, “Don’t you dare say it, Lucy.” He goes to her again, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want to hear your lies just so you can feel better about how much you’ve hurt me. If you’re going to say that to me, I want it to mean something to you. If you’re going to say you love me, you damn well better mean it.”

Lucy wraps her arms around his neck, cupping his head in her hand and she lifts herself out of the water and kisses him. She opens her mouth to him, expecting him to respond, and when he doesn’t, she cries out and slides off his body. Her hands trail down the front of his chest.

“Lucy…” His voice is calm now, “… just stop, ok?” He doesn’t want this to escalate. “I understand.”

She shakes her head, because no, he doesn’t understand.

“I understand that you and Wyatt have a history, and while you were falling in love with him, you saw me as your enemy. I get it… and it’s ok, Lucy.” He touches her shoulder.

“Garcia…”

He crawls out of the pool, and offers his hand to her to help her out. She takes it and once on her feet, she doesn’t let him go. She opens her mouth but she doesn’t know what to say to him, doesn’t know the right way to say what she so desperately wants him to hear. That she loves him. He tries to pull his hand away from hers, but she doesn’t let him go.

“Please, let go of my hand, Lucy,” he says politely.

She’s so afraid of upsetting him more that she does as asked.

She lets go of his hand.

He walks away from her, disappearing inside the guest house.

Lucy bends over and picks up her shoes and follows him, joining him in the guest house.

She stands, soaking wet in her burgundy evening gown and watches as Garcia removes the gun from his coat and sets it on the table in the middle of the room. He hangs the wet coat over the back of a chair, and proceeds to remove his shirt and pants until he’s wearing only his black boxer briefs.

Lucy turns her back to him and peels the wet dress from her body.

She hangs it over a chair at the side of the King-sized bed. She blinks back tears as she holds her arms over her chest and turns around to look at Garcia. His back is to her. _Always the gentleman_ , she thinks as she lowers her arms, not caring if he should turn around and see her wearing only her black panties. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen her naked. She hooks her thumbs over the elastic band of her underwear and strips them off.

Completely nude, Lucy glances back at Garcia. His back is still to her as he stands at the table, checking over his gun. She sighs as she walks to the side of the bed and turns down the blankets and crawls in, not caring that her hair is soaking wet. She rolls onto her side and closes her eyes. She shivers and hopes that even though he’s upset with her that he will still sleep next to her, to help warm her body with his own.

She listens.

Now that she’s in bed, he’s moving around.

She listens to hear what Garcia is going to do.

There’s only one bed in the room and none of the chairs have armrests. He would be crazy to try to sleep in them. She hopes and prays that he crawls into bed with her. The floor creaks and she hears him coming toward her. The bed dips as he sits on its edge.

“Is it all right if I sleep next to you, Lucy?” He asks.

Lucy pulls the blanket up over her chest and turns to face him. Her eyes fall on fresh bruises on his chest. She nods her head and lowers her eyes. She quickly turns away when she sees that he too, has stripped out of his wet underwear. They’ve slept together in the same bed before, but they have never slept naked with each other.

He reaches over and turns off the lamp and settles into bed next to her. He doesn’t touch her, and he doesn’t offer to wrap his arms around her to help warm her. They lay there in silence for what seems like eternity.

“I took care of Calhoun.” He says. “I dug him a shallow grave about a mile from here. We’ll want to leave early in the morning, without saying goodbye to Hedy. We don’t want to be around when his body is found, or when he’s reported as missing.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” She asks, turning around to reach out to touch his wounded lip again. An action she hopes will cause him to take her into his arms.

He gently takes hold of her wrist and sets her hand down away from him. He needs to make it known, the barrier he wants between them now, no matter how much he wants to hold her close.

“He was a good fighter, got a few hits in, but nothing to worry about.”

“Garcia?”

“Hm?”

Lucy inches toward him and hesitates as she places her hand on his chest, resting her head against his shoulder. She doesn’t have anything to say. She said his name just as an excuse to lie close to him, to touch him. She runs her fingertips across his chest hair and sighs.

“I did kiss him… at first, but…”

“Lucy. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He places his hand on hers and removes it from his chest.

Her heart breaks.

She fucked up.

“What if I want to tell you what happened?” She asks.

Garcia swallows, knowing full well what he had told himself earlier about if she came to him and told him the truth about kissing Wyatt tonight. But he’s a goddamn stubborn man and right now it just seems easier to be upset with her than it would be to actually discuss what happened, and how it makes him feel. He decides to be an asshole about it, to protect his heart, to push her away.

“I saw what happened, Lucy… and if I didn’t show up, what would you have done? Come in here and laid with him?” He hates the way his voice sounds with her.

Garcia sits up and throws the blanket off his body. He stands, naked, looking around even though he knows that neither one of them has any dry clothes to change into. He wants to head back to the time machine now. To get back home to 2017 where he can get some sleep alone in his room.

“No! Dammit, Garcia.” Lucy stands up, tugging the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around her naked body. She goes to him, looking up as she stands beside him. “I know you think you don’t want to hear what happened, but-”

“Go back to bed, Lucy.” He says quietly. He really does not want to argue with her right now. He’s tired and his heart is broken.

“But… yes, I let him kiss me at first, but what you saw… him pressing me against the wall… I didn’t want that. I tried to stop him, but…” She shakes her head and watches Garcia sit down on one of the armless chairs next to the bed, not caring that he’s naked in front of her.

His heart is in his throat when he hears Lucy say that she was trying to stop Wyatt from kissing her. He watches as she kneels in front of him, the sheet falls from her body, exposing her to him. But she doesn’t care. She’s much more interested in fixing this issue that they’re having. She places her hands on the bare skin of his thighs and looks up at him, her eyes pleading with him to just listen to her. To not be so stubborn.

“Stop being afraid of your feelings for me, Garcia.” She says. “I know you’re afraid, and that’s no excuse to push me away.”

“What about how you push me away?” He asks. His heart hurts. If Wyatt really was kissing her against her will, his reaction to this information is actually making him an asshole right now. If what he saw wasn’t consented… he sighs, the next time he sees that boy he’s going to have a serious talk with him.

“I’m not.” Lucy argues. “I mean… ok, the cooling off thing, but… I think after everything that happened today that… that… I’m not pushing you away, Garcia.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He crosses his arms over his chest and closes his eyes, hoping that she’ll take the hint and go back to bed. _STOP BEING AN ASSHOLE, GARCIA!_ He screams at himself in his head. _She’s trying to communicate with you, and you’re stupid and pushing her away because you’re too goddamn afraid of loving her, and her loving you back._

“And if I were to kiss you right now, and tell you that I love you, would you still think that I’m pushing you away?” She asks.

He doesn’t answer, but the mere suggestion of Lucy kissing him makes his heart pound in his chest. He wants her. He wants to kiss her and wants her to kiss him, but now? No, now is not the right time or place, not anymore. He keeps his eyes closed and hears that she’s crying.

Fuck.

He did not want to hurt her.

He only wanted to let her know that he knows about her feelings for Wyatt, and that he would accept it if she left him. But even then, his assumption is wrong, and he’s still trying to push her away. He feels Lucy’s hands on his thighs and then her lips press against his. He feels her naked breasts press against his chest. She whimpers his name, and yet…

He doesn’t kiss her back.

Her lips kiss his bottom lip, her tongue brushing against it, begging him to open himself to her.

To give in to his love for her, and to accept her love.

Her hands caress his chest, begging for him to just give himself to her.

To not be afraid.

He doesn’t kiss her back.

Her lips move to his jaw and then to his neck.

Her breasts caress him lower, brushing against his abdomen.

He opens his eyes and inhales sharply.

But he doesn’t kiss her.

He doesn’t touch her.

He wants to touch her.

He wants to take her into his arms.

Carry her back to bed and make love to her.

To tell her he loves her.

But he does none of those things.

“I love you, Garcia.” She whispers into his ear as she nibbles on his earlobe.

He feels her warm tears on his skin.

He closes his eyes and exhales.

He believes her.

But still.

He places his hands on her shoulders and pushes her back.

His eyes are soft as he looks deep into her brown eyes.

He shakes his head.

She kisses his lips again, and God help him he wants to kiss her back, but he doesn’t.

He can’t.

Not until he knows for certain that she’s not doing this to make a quick fix of the situation.

He pushes her away again and she whimpers.

“I think we should make our way back to the time machine.” He tells her as he stands up. He takes her hands in his and helps her to her feet. “I think it’s best that we get back home.”


End file.
